.. N > ""'•''^.,, 



^ 4. 



Slnclc HmxB diim' 



CONTRASTED WITH 



BUCKINGHAM HALL 



THE 



PLANTER'S HOME, 

OR, 



BY 

ROBERT CRISWELL, Esq. 

AUTHOR OF " LETTERS FROM THE SOUTH AND WEST." 



" The master of a well ordered home, knoweth to be kind to hia 
servants ; yet he exacteth reverence, and each one feareth at hia 
post," — T upper. 



NEW-YORK: 

PRINTED AND rUBLISHED BY D. FA-NSHAW, 
No. 108 Nassau-atroet. 



1852. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by D. Fanshaw 
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
District of New- York. 



TO 

THE MEMORY OF 

Whose lamented death, (shrouding the Nation in mourn- 
ing, and filling the hearts of his countrjTiien with sor- 
row and regret,) occurring while these pages were in 
the hands of the publisher ; this Book is dedicated, with 
heartfelt sorrpw, as a small token of admiration of his great 
services in behalf of his country, and more especially of 
the last great act in the drama of his life, (to which it is 
supposed he fell a martyr,) viz: his noble eiforts in en- 
deavoring to allay the great agitation on the Slavery ques- 
tion, between the North and the South. 

As every thing relating to that great man, 

" Whose like we ne'er shall see again," 

Is deeply interesting, I will here introduce an incident 
which took place about the time he offered liis celebrated 
compromise resolutions to the Senate. 

A word of explanation in regard to the subject will be 
necessary : 

A few years ago I visited the tomb of Washington, at 
Mount Vernon, and while searching for relics in the old 



4 TO THE MEMORY 

vault, (his remains having been removed from it in 1837, 
to a new vault near by,) I fortunately found a fragment of 
his coffin with parts of the pall attached to it by two brass 
nails, which fragment I presented to Mr, Clay. 

The same morning, whilst speaking before the Senate, 
he alluded to the subject as follows ; 

" I cannot omit, before I conclude, relating an incident, 
a thrilling incident which occurred ^^rior to my leaving my 
lodgings this morning. 

" A gentleman came to my room — the same at whose 
instance, a few days ago, I presented a memorial calling 
upon Congress for the purchase of Mount Vernon for the 
use of the public — and, without being at all aware of what 
purpose I entertained in the discharge of my public duty 
to-day, he said to me, ' Mr. Clay, I heard you make a 
remark the other day which induces me to suppose 
that a precious relic in my possession vrould be accept- 
able to you. He then drew fj'om his pocket and pre- 
sented to me the object which I now hold in my hand. 
And what, Mr. President, do you suppose it is 1 It is a 
fragment of the coffin of Washington — a fragment of that 
coffin in which now repose in silence, in sleep and speech- 
less, all the earthly remains of the venerated Father of his 
country. Was it portentious that it should have been 
thus presented to me? Was it a sad presage of what 
might happen to that flibric which Washington's virtue, 
patriotism and valor established ? No, sir, no. It was « 
warning voice, coining from the grave to the Congress now 
in Session, to beware, to pause, to reflect before they lend 
themselves to any purposes which shall destroy that Union 



O F II E N K Y C L A Y . 5 

which was cemented by his exertions and examjDlc. Sir, I 
hope an impression may be made on your mind, such as 
that which was made on mine, by the reception of this 
precious relict 

This incident illustrates Mr. Clay's tact and ingenuity 
in seizing and turning to good account this and like circum- 
stances. Little did I think when presenting that fragment, 
that two or three hours after, it would be, in the hands of 
Henry Clay, the means of producing more deep feeling and 
sensation in the Senate than had been witnessed for years. 
The Senators ceased talking and writing, and gave their 
whole attention to the Speaker, while profound silence 
reigned throughout the crowded galleries. Many were 
moved to tears. 

What a subject this would have been for an artist ! The 
venerable and immortal Clay, his commanding form stretch- 
ed to its full height, and his eagle eye beaming with pa- 
triotism, holding m his right hand a part of the coffin of 
Washington^ and conjuring his brother Senators, in th« 
name of that great and good man, to spare that Union 
which was cemented by his exertions and example. 

Tliough Mr. Clay was much engaged at the time I pre- 
sented him with the relic, the next day I received the fol- 
lowing note from liim, which has not been given to the 
public before : 

" H. Clay, with his respects, presents to Mr. Criswell 
many thanks for the fragment from the coffin of Washiiig- 
ton, which he did him the favor to present to him. It is a 
precious relic, which Mr. Clay w^ill carefully preserve. 



b TO THE MEMORY, ETC. 

" Wishing Mr. Criswell health and happiness, I am truly 
his friend, and obedient servant, 

«H. Clay." 
Washington, Jan. 30, 1850. 

As an evidence of the estimate Mr. Clay put upon this 
relic, he, in his will, l^ft a ring containing a part of it, to 
one of his dearest friends. 

The Author. 



The Author in laying this work before the jpullic 
has hut one motive in view, which is to contribute his 
mite in endeavoring to allay the great agitation on the 
Slavery Question between the North and jSouih, which 
threatens to dissolve our glorious Union; and as that 
talented authoress^ Mrs. Stowe^ in " Uncle Tom^s Cabin^^* 
has increased that agitation^ the author hopes to modify 
it somewhat J by representing the Planter and Slave in 
a more favorable liglit. 

Though living in the North, he has travelled exten- 
sively through the South, {having visited nine of the 
Southern States,) he therefore flatters himself that he 
gives a fair and impartial statement of both sides of 
the question. 

Many of the incidents and stories related in the booh 
came under his ovjn observation, while others were given 
him by acquaintances. 

If his motive is realized in the least degree, if the 
booh proves to be one drop of oil cast upon the tempes- 
tuous sea of agitation, his wishes will be accomplished. 

The Author. 



UNCLE TOM'S CABIN 



CONTRASTED WITH 



BUCKINGHAM HALL 



CHAPTER I. 

'* There is a Diviuity that shapes our ends, 
" Rough hew them as we will." 

Colonel George Buckingliam was a wealthy plant- 
er, wliose residence was near Charleston, South Caro- 
lina. His whole establishment exhibited a style and 
magnificence uncommon in that place. Being de- 
scended from some portion of the English nobility, 
the Colonel made it a point to adopt their manners 
and customs in his own domain. Therefore, Buck- 
ingham ilall, which was situated in the centre of a 
line park, adorned with stately forest trees and various 
kinds of ornamental shrubbery, was a splendid build- 
ing of the Columbian. Order, furnished Avitli almost, 
Oriental magnificence. He never went abroad with- 
out four horses to his carriaore, and his household ser- 
vants — all slaves — were, without exception, dressed 
in livery. 

The Colonel was justly proud of his beautiful vil- 
la, from the cupola of which he could enjoy a delight- 
ful view of the Hue harbor of Charleston, with Fort 

r 



10 UNCLE TOM's cabin AND 

Moultrie and Castle Pinckney in the distance. In 
this observatory was fitted up his library, with tele- 
scopes and other astronomical instruments, for though 
not a learned man, in the strict sense. of the word, 
he was fond of literature and science, and employed 
a good part of his time reading and studying. 

Although a man of sterling worth and good quali- 
ties. Colonel Buckingham had his weak points, espe- 
cially in regard to his ancestral blood, which, he often 
boasted, had not " Crept through scoundrels ever since 
the flood," but was pure and aristocratic in its descent. 
From the researches he had made in the English 
books of Peerage, he had discovered that his grand- 
father's grandfather was a brother of one of the 
Dukes of Buckingham, therefore, he flattered himself 
that a few drops of noble blood were coursing through 
his veins ; and on this was based the haughtiness and 
unbending pride of his character. However, to his 
slaves, he was uniformly kind and humane, and in 
return they loved him with all the native simplicity 
of their hearts. Colonel Buckingham had several 
plantations in Georgia and Alabama, on which were 
four or five hundred slaves, which he was in the ha- 
bit of visiting at different periods of the year. All of 
them, and especially those near his person, were so 
attached to him, that if offered their freedom they 
•Vi^ould not accept of it if it would separate them from 
their master. They would have said that their con- 
dition was far better than that of the free negroes 
around them, that they had all the necessaries of Hfe, 



BUCKINGHAM HALI,. 11 

and that when illness confined them at home, a phy- 
sician was never wanting to attend them. Such in- 
deed, is generally the feeling between the slave and a 
kind master : but alas ! there are too many slave-hold- 
ers whose cruelty makes them hated and feared by 
the unfortunate objects of their tyranny. 

Colonel Buckingham was a widower, and had 
two children, a son and daughter. The son, Eugene; 
was, at the period of his introduction to the writer, 
about twenty-five years of age, tall, well-proportioned 
and rather good-looking. In disposition he was open- 
hearted, frank and generous to a fault ; but it must 
be confessed that he possessed a pretty large share of 
vanity, which could be seen lurking in every linea- 
ment of his countenance. Like his father, he was 
inclined to boasting on subjects concerning him- 
self; and would occasionally tell of his being at a 
brilliant party at the Charleston Hotel, given in honor 
of some foreign literary character ; when he was told 
by a gentleman, that the ladies considered him a per- 
fect resemblance of a certain Capt. S. the handsomest 
man in the room. There was also a degree of haugh- 
tiness in his manners which was far from pleasing ; 
but when he desired to please, he could be as polite 
and affable as any. Yet, he would never humble 
himself in the least degree to obtain a favor of any 
man, there was too much pride and independence in 
his character for that. On the whole, however, he 
was much liked by his acquaintance, and his company 
considered quite an acquisition. 



12 



His sister Cora was a tall, gracefal girl of nine- 
teen, her hair and eyes were blackness itself; and in 
the latter was an expression of dreaminess and lan- 
gour that was very fascinating. She had just return- 
ed from school, and was already quite a belle, for 
though not beautiful, there was a lady -like softness of 
manner, and a sweet insinuating smile, that were to 
the enthusiastic Southerners, irresistable. Still, ac- 
complished as she was, her acquirements were merely 
superficial ; she was weak-minded and indolent in 
character and disposition. 

Eugene Buckingham had attended college in 
Columbia for several years, his father being deter- 
mined he should be well educated ; and in this he was 
not disappointed, for the young man graduated with 
honors. Well satisfied on this point, the Colonel be- 
gan to think of a wife for the son-and-heir of his 
possessions. On looking around him, his choice fell 
upon the daughter of his nearest neighbor, Frederick 
Jones, Esq. whose plantation joined that of the Colo- 
nel, and which was well stocked with valuable slaves. 
Without consulting the wishes of Eugene, his father 
proposed the match to Mr. Jones, who received it 
with great favor, and immediately recommended it to 
his daughter Susanna, whose pleasure at the idea was 
extreme. It was all she wished — all she had striven 
to gain for the last year. She was a large, showy 
girl, with rather a pretty face, but her manners were 
brusque and masculine. She was fond of gayety, and 
was scarce! V ever at home ; and being a fearless 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 13 

rider, she raced and hunted as well as any of the 
young men. 

She often visited at Buckingham Hall, although 
no favorite of Cora's ; and as for Eugene, he kept as 
much as possible out of her way. 

But being informed by his father of the alliance 
he had formed for him, the anger of the young man 
was uncontrollable ; he did not, indeed, disguise his 
antipathy and disgust of the proposal, whereat his fa- 
ther was so exasperated that he threatened to disin- 
herit him if he did not obey his commands. But Eu- 
gene left his presence without any reply. 

Now, Mr. Jones had no education himself; and 
consequently considered that his children could do 
without it as well as he. Therefore he would not send 
his daughter to school, nor his son to college ; for, said 
he, *'I would be a fool to spend five or six hundred 
a year on their learning, when I can leave them a 
slave worth that amount for every year they would 
be there." So, as you may suppose, his sons and 
daughter grew up about as ignorant as their father. 

Colonel Buckingham urged his son so often and 
so strenuously to pay his devoirs to Miss Jones, and 
her father so incessantly attempted to joke with him 
on the subject, that he became utterly disgusted at 
the idea of marriage ; and inwardly vowed that he 
would never tie himself to any woman. Neither pa- 
rents seemed to understand that Susanna was not 
the woman formed to excite the tender passion in a 
man of taste and feeling. Love is a delicate plant, 



14 



that grows spontaneously in its native soil ; it can- 
not be forced by artificial means ; and if ever trans- 
planted, it requires skillful and tender cultivation, 
else it withers and dies. 

Although the Colonel wished the match on ac- 
count of the young lady's possessions, Eugene was too 
noble minded to marry for wealth alone; nothing 
short of mental beauty and a gifted mind could in- 
terest a soul like his. 

But at last, wearied out with the persecutions of 
the two fathers, and the irksome presence of the 
daughter, who was every day at Buckingham Hall, 
Eugene resolved to quit his home, and pay a visit to 
the North, disregarding the repeated threat of his fa- 
ther to disinherit him. Notwithstanding the respect 
he bore the author of his being, and the love he had 
for his sister, nothing could induce him to remain 
where life was to him a torment. Therefore, he sud- 
denly took his departure from Charleston, much to 
the astonishment and chagrin of Frederick Jones, 
Esq. and his " very interesting " daughter Susanna, 
who, however, took the disappointment to heart much 
less than her father, for he had set his mind on an- 
nexing the plantations. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 15 



CHAPTER 11. 



•'Upon thy heart there is laid a spell, 

"Holy and precious — oh, guard it well !" — Hemans. 



Althougli Eugene BucMngTiam; wlien in a fit of 
spleen, had vowed he would never marry, he had for 
more than a year been in love — not with any woman 
he had ever seen — but with an ideal that lay cradled 
in his heart. The fact was, a lady of New- York had 
been contributing for some time to the various perio- 
dicals and magazines throughout the States, under the 
nom deplume of Corinne Sunshine, and Eugene was so 
facinated by her writings, that he, enthusiastic fellow ! 
fell in love with an imaginary being, a creature of per- 
fection, which perhaps if ever found would prove no- 
thing more than a mere mortal, likely enough, either 
old or ugly. But, although this thought sometimes 
passed through his brain, he immediately banished it, 
for the romance was so delightful that he would not 
suffer it to be dispelled. From the character of the 
lady's writings, he concluded her character and dispo- 



16 UNCLE TOM S CABIN AND 

sition to be as bright and sunsbiny as ber name, tbere- 
fore sbe would be just tbe woman to please bim. It 
was partly to discover tbe name and residence of bis 
''soul's idol," tbat bis intended destination was New- 
York, and it was witb a beart full of bope and pleas- 
ing anticipations, tbat be boarded tbe splendid steamer 
Crescent City, bound for tbat port. After a speedy 
and agreeable voyage be arrived at tbe " Commercial 
emporium of tbe Union," and was soon establisbed at 
tbe Astor House. Having witb bim a letter of intro- 
duction from a gentleman of Charleston to Capt. Cole- 
man, tbat " Prince of Hosts," be received bim like an 
old friend, and tbeir acquaintance soon became a 
mutual pleasure. 

Eugene spent a fortnight perambulating tbe city, 
and visiting tbe many places of amusement ; and then 
thinking tbat be might discover bis inamorata by seek- 
ing N. P. Willis, who is said to know nearly all tbe 
literary characters in Christendom; be called upon 
bim, and on our hero's propounding tbe question, 
this gentleman promptly told bim that the lady who 
wrote under tbe signature of Corinne Sunshine, was 
a Miss Juba Tennyson, daughter of Dr. Tennyson of 
La Fayette Place ; but unfortunately for Eugene, AVil- 
lis was not personally acquainted witb ber ; so that to 
gain an introduction was yet an impossibilitj^ But 
"as bope springs eternal in tbe human breast," the 
young man, on his way back to the hotel, endeavored 
to contrive some mode of obtaining a sight of the lady, 
tbat be might know at a glance whether his ideal was 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 17 

embodied in lier. At last a tlioiiglit struck him, and 
tlie next day lie acted upon it. It was this : he bought 
at Stewart's an elegantl}^ embroidered pocket hand- 
kerchief, and immediately proceeding to La Fayette 
Place, mounted the steps and rung the bell of No. 
— . The door was opened, and he inquired of the 
servant if Miss Tennyson was at home. Replying in 
the affirmative, she ushered him into an elegant par- 
lor, and on asking his name, he rejDlied that he was a 
stranger. The girl looked curiously at him for a 
moment, and then disappeared. Imagine his feelings 
— in the ver}^ house of his ideal — momentarily ex- 
pecting her appearance, discomposed and agitated; 
but he felt he must be calm, or how was he to carry 
out his little piece of deception ? 

The long wished for moment arrived. Miss Ten- 
nyson stood before him — a creature of such exquisite 
loveliness that his eyes were dazzled, and for a mo- 
ment his tongue was paralized. He could only bow, 
which she returned with stately grace, and asked, in 
a voice sweeter and softer than ever before dwelt 
upon his ear, what was the object of his visit. 

Finding at last his utterance, he said, " Pardon my 
intrusion, but I found this hankerchief with your 
name upon it in an oniuibus, and I could do no less 
than return it to you." 

The young lady took the article in her hand and 
replied, "It is indeed my name, but sir, the handker- 
chief is not mine, it must belong to some other joer- 
son ; it is strange." 



18 



*' So it is," eclioed Eugene, (slightly blushing as 
his conscience reproved him for his deception,) ''I 
was not aware there could be another lady of the 
name of her of whom I have heard so much." 

"Perhaps," said Julia, smiling, "it was the other 
lady of whom you have heard." 

Eugene shook his head — "No! But since it is 
not yours, excuse my intrusion." 

"Not at all," replied Julia, politely, as the young 
man bowed himself into the street ; and when the 
door closed he thought darkness had fallen upon the 
earth, for the vision that enlightened his soul for a 
few moments was no longer visible. 

Our hero had now gained one object ; he had seen 
his ideal, and found her to surpass his wildest dreams. 
She was apparently about nineteen, above the medium 
height, possessed a slender and graceful form, a sweet, 
soul-breathing countenance, large, liquid brown eyes, 
and hair of a glossy chestnut, that fell in a profusion 
of curls around her face and finely formed neck. Her 
beauty was of that rare kind formed to last for ever ; 
if not in the world, in the hearts of those that bore 
its impress. It was so with. Eugene ; for weeks after, 
wherever he went, that vision of loveliness was be- 
fore him ; it was the. theme of his meditations by 
night and by day. 

One afternoon in the second week of June, our 
hero paid a visit to the Academy of Design, that place 
" where lovers oft do congregate," and while there, 
was surprised and delighted to meet Miss Tennyson, 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 19 

who was accompanied by an elderly lady. She did 
not appear to observe him as be stood at a distance, 
drinking in her beauty with all his soul. Then, as 
she moved on, he followed, still at a distance ; for the 
time, entirely regardless of the magnificent paintings 
around him, as his whole mind was absorbed in the 
living picture. At length she stopped at a design 
that seemed to please her extremely, and Eugene 
gradually drew nearer. The painting was called the 
" Declaration :" it represented a young man standing 
by the side of a lovely girl and holding her hand; 
with love, tenderness, and anxiety depicted in his 
countenance, while she, with downcast eyes, and timid 
heart-revealing look, showed that his wishes would 
meet no refusal. 

"Ah!" sighed Eugene to himself, "would that I 
and the lovely Julia were in the same situation, and 
that I were as sure of success as that young man.". 

Miss Tennyson at length exclaimed, as if uncon- 
sciously, " Beautiful ! beautiful 1" 

" Beautiful, indeed !" echoed young Buckingham. 

The young lady started and turned around. As 
her eyes fell upon him she seemed embarrassed, but 
made no sign of recognition. 

" Excuse me. Miss Tennyson, I did not mean to 
intrude." She made no reply, but bowed and passed 
on. Eugene remained where he was, and shortly af- 
ter, saw by a side glance that she was leaving the 
room. Having now nothing to interest him, he soon 
retraced his steps to his hotel. On the way he solilo- 
quized as follows : 



20 UNCLE TOm's cabin AND 

" Here I have been for a montli witliout making 
her acquamtance ; and how that acquaintance is to 
be made I do not imagine. She treats me so coolly 
too — I wish I could obtain an introduction — unfortu- 
natel}^ I know no one that is acquainted with her. I 
regret that I left my home in the ' sunny South ' on 
this Quixotic expedition — I almost despair — but no ! 
I will not ! '■ Perseverance ' is my motto, and I believe 
in the old adage, that ' the darkest hour is just before 
day,' therefore I will try again." 

As he entered the Astor he met his friend Capt. 
Coleman, who addressed him with, " Ah, my young 
friend, so you have been walking out; I have got 
something for you." And he handed him a beauti- 
fully embossed note, which Eugene took and read as 
follows : 

"Mr. Buckingham's company will be agreeable 
this evening at No. — , La Fayette Place." 

The astonishment and delight of our hero cannot 
be expressed. He stood and stared at his friend 
without a word. 

"Ha! ha!" laughed the Captain, " \yhat is the 
matter ?" 

" Is this a hoax ?' 

"A hoax? no; what put that in your head?" 

''I am not acquainted with anybody in that 
quarter." 

" What of that, if they wish to be acquainted with 
you. The fact is, my dear Buckingham, I have said 
so much about the ' young Southerner ' to Dr. Tenny- 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 21 

son and his benutiful dangliter, that they have a great 
desire to see you. There is no necessity of looking so 
scared ; all you will have to do is to prepare yourself 
for the party and accompany me. Will you go ? " 

" Certainly," replied Eugene. And then, forget- 
ting himself, he said aloud, "she will be surprised." 

" Why ?" exclaimed the other, " has she ever seen 
you?" 

The young man blushed deeply, as he stammered 
out, " Yes — I — that is — she — I have seen her — I — " 

" Ah, ha ! I see, I understand. Well, we start at 
nine." And the amiable gentleman passed into the 
street laughing quietly to himself. 

After tea Buckingham visited Cristadora's shav- 
ing saloon, under the Astor, and after a short space 
came forth greatly improved in the upper story. He 
then repaired to his chamber, and while dressing his 
thoughts were these : 

"Day is at length beginning to dawn upon me; 
the clouds that have been hanging over me for weeks 
are now dispersing, leaving a clear opening in the 
bright blue sky of my existence. I feel that my pre- 
sentiment will yet be crowned witli success : 

' It most be so, 
' Else, why this longing hoj^e, this fond desire V 

*' I have always been a firm believer in predestina- 
tion, for, if the ' hairs of our heads are all numbered, 
and not a sparrow falleth to the ground without His 
notice,' have we not reason to believe that an event 



22 UNCLE TOil's CABIN AND 

of SO mucli importance as marriage is arranged by In- 
finite Goodness ? If so, might I not as well ascertain 
from the lovely Julia, to night, whether or not our 
lot is to be united ? But, no ; I will not be so abrupt : 
for if Providence ordains the ends, it also ordains the 
means by which those ends are accomplished." 

Having finished dressing he took a last look in 
the mirror, and was quite satisfied with what he saw 
there, — for the reader will recollect that one of his 
failings was excessive vanity — and then descended to 
the ladies' parlor, where he remained making obser- 
vations on the company, until summoned to the car- 
riage by. Captain Coleman. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 



CHAPTER III. 



" The brightness of hex- cheek would shame the stars, 
" As daylight doth a lamp ; her eyes in heaven 
" Would, through the airy region, stream so bright 
" That birds would sing and tiiiuk it were not night." 



Eugene Buckingliam and his companion said little 
on their way to the mansion of Dr. Tennyson, for our 
hero was too absent to converse, and the other had no 
inclination to interrupt his reverie. At length the 
carriage stopped before the door and the friends en- 
tered the house. 

The large, brilliantly lighted parlors were filled 
with a goodly representation of the " upper tendovi,^^ 
and as they advanced, Eugene's visual organs scan- 
ned the rooms for the star and belle of the evening. 
He soon discovered her seated on an ottoman sur- 
rounded by a circle of gentlemen ; and it was not sur- 
prising that a pang of jealousy shot with an electric 
thrill through his heart, " Should she happen to be 
engaged !" he thought. 

"Come," said Coleman, with a meaning smile, 
'' now for the introduction !" 



24 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

Buckingliam's heart leaped at the words, and lie 
actually felt a trembling sensation creep over liim, as, 
taking tlie arm of liis friend, lie approached with him 
the miconscioiis object of his adoration. 

" Good evening, Miss Tennyson; allow me to pre- 
sent my friend Mr. Buckingham." 

Julia raised her lustrous eyes, and an expression 
of strong surprise flitted across her countenance ; and 
bowing with some embarrassment, she said, '' I am 
happy to see you, sir." 

Eugene bowed as politely as he knew how, and 
ventured to ask the honor of her hand for the dance, 
if not engaged. 

She replied, "I am engaged for this set, but for 
the next I shall be happy." 

Some of the young exquisites around her let fall 
their under lips with chagrin, and one or two, ac- 
quainted with the Captain, followed him to inquire 
" who the deuce that proud looking fellow was?" 

On being informed that he was the only son and 
heir of a rich Southern planter, they begged for a 
presentation, and endeavored throughout the even- 
ing to make themselves as agreeable as possible to 
young Buckingham. 

It was soon whispered about the room, who our 
hero was, and he became a lion at once. The young 
ladies bestowed on him their most fascinating smiles, 
but in vain; he, like Achilles, was invulnerable, save 
in one spot, and that, none had discovered but the 
gentle Julia. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 25 

As Eugene led Miss Tennyson to tlic dance, lie 
felt, in his pride, full six inches taller, for was she not 
the most splendid girl in the room, and the "cynosure 
of all eyes ?" She was simply dressed, in rich white 
embroidered muslin, without a single ornament save 
a blush rose in her dark hair, yet overshadowed every 
lady present, as in the dance 

" She moved a goddess, and she looked a queen." 

All indeed acknowledged her superior charms except 
some over-dressed maiden ladies, whose eyes were 
blinded by pure envy alone. Our hero himself was 
in raptures with her beauty and grace, and charmed 
with the brilliance of her conversation. 

But, " all that's bright must fade," and so thought 
Eugene, as 

" The silent hours stole on, 

" And flaky darkness broke within the East," 

compelling him, with the other guests, to depart. As 
he wished Julia good morning he begged permission 
to call on her, which she granted without hesitation. 
Dr. Tennyson was a Scotchman, and a gentleman 
of the old school, proud, learned, and talented, with 
many good qualities both in mind and heart. Though 
not possessed of a fortune, he had an excellent prac- 
tice, and always lived fully up to his income, so that 
whoever proposed for the hand of his daughter must 
take her portionless. This Eugene was fulh^ aware 
of from the conversation of several persons at the 

2 



26 



soiree, but it had no effect upon him. She knew he 
was rich, independent of his father ; for his deceased 
uncle, Fairfield Buckingham, had left him a large 
plantation in Georgia, with many valuable slaves. 

Our hero, you can easily believe, was a frequent 
visitor at No. — ■ La Fayette Place, always to Julia 
a welcome intruder, for she had become much in- 
terested in the young Southerner, who soon discover- 
ed that her intellect was of the first order, and conse- 
quently became every day deeper enthralled. Her 
father had prided himself on giving her the best edu- 
cation in his power ; he would not send her to board- 
ing school, for he believed that the learning usually 
obtained at such places was merely superficial. So 
tutors were provided her at home, and she became a 
model in every respect. This Eugene learned, partly 
from herself and partly from his own observations, 
which were generally pretty correct. 

But, however pleased the fair Julia might have 
been with her lover, Dr. Tennj^son evidently disliked 
his visits, when he found they had an object. As a 
friend and social companion he thought well of him, 
but he was determined his danohter should never be 
united to a slave-holder, and for this reason alone ho 
did not wish her to encourage him. 

Miss Tennyson, among her other accomplishments, 
included that healthful one of riding on horseback, 
and certainly was a most fearless and graceful rider ; 
at any rate, so Eugene thought as he accompanied 
her one fine afternoon to Bloomin.o;dale, She rode on 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 27 

that occasion a beautiful cream-colored pon}^, with a 
mane and tail as white as ocean's foam, a spirited ani- 
mal that cantered along as if proud of its precious 
burden. If Eugene thought Julia charming at other 
times, he considered her perfectly enchanting now, in 
her elegant riding costume ; for he thought as most 
gentlemen do, that a lady, especially if she be young 
and well-formed, never appears to such advantage as 
on horseback, provided she is a graceful rider. 

One morning Buckingham called in a carriage to 
invite Miss Tennyson to accompany him to Green- 
wood Cemetery. She accepted and was tripping- 
down stairs to go, Avhen the Doctor called her to him 
from the back parlor. 

*' My child," said he, " where are you going?" 

" To ride in the country with Mr. Buckingham." 

" Julia ; I have told you before, not to encourage 
this young man, I do not wish it — his principles 
don't suit me. You must give up his society. Will 
you oboy me or not?" 

Julia blushed deeply and held down her head, but 
replied, " I will not go with him after to-day, father." 

" See that you do not then." 

This conversation was unintentionally overheard 
by Eugene, who was standing in the street door wait 
ing for Miss Tennyson, and it sent a thrill of disap 
pointment through his heart. At the moment he fell 
utterly wretched, and as he handed Julia into the car 
riage and took a seat by her side, he sighed bitter 
ly. She looked at him but said nothing, and then 



28 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN AND 

rested a shade of melanclioly on her own fair cheek. 

After what had passed, it was not surprising that 
the young people labored under a mutual embarrass- 
ment during the drive to Greenwood ; and while they 
were wandering through its rural labyrynths. As 
they walked on, admiring the lovely flowers and orna- 
mental trees, and reading the sweet and touching in- 
scriptions on the numerous, chaste, and elegant monu- 
ments, Eugene's eyes expressed deep sadness; he 
sighed frequently, and was evidently so preoccupied, 
that Julia asked what ailed him. He replied that ho 
felt a little indisposed ; but the truth was, he was en- 
deavoring to make up his mind to leave New- York, 
and bani^sh himself from the charmer at his side, and 
after a long struggle with himself, decided to do so. 

In the meantime their steps brought them to a 
spot where several little tomb-stones raised their mar- 
ble faces from the bright green grass around them. 

"Is not that beautiful?" exclaimed Julia, as she 
read their simple inscriptions. " ' Sweet little Char- 
ley ' — ' our baby ' — ' dear William ' — ' our angel boy.' 
And farther on, ' my mother.' Here Julia could not 
repress her tears, for her own mother had only been 
dead about two years : and Eugene led her away 
without speaking, till they came to the most splendid 
piece of sculpture in the Cemetery. This was a 
monument built in the form of a church, with a door 
in front, in which stood the marble figure of a lovely 
young girl in ball-room attire. " Strange idea !" ex- 
claimed Eugene, " to dress the dead thus." 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 29 

"Do not judge too hastily/' said Julia; "after 
you have fully examined the beauty of this elegant 
mausoleum. I will relate to you the history of the 
fair girl who is here buried." 

Eugene stood for half an hour in silent contem- 
plation of the tomb of Charlotte Cauda. He could 
not cease to admire the beauty of the structure, the 
tasteful ornaments surrounding it, the marble flower- 
pots in which were planted rare flowers, the two an- 
gels, large as life, placed in either side of the tomb, as 
if guarding it from every intruder, and the tasteful 
manner in which flowers were placed around the in- 
ner side of a neat iron railing surrounding the monu- 
ment. 

In the meantime, Julia had seated herself on a 
bench beneath the shade of a large oak tree, and Eu- 
gene having finished his survey, came and took a 
seat beside her. 

" Charlotte Cauda," began the fair girl, " was the 
only daughter of a rich French gentleman, who was 
the superintendant of a large and successful Semi- 
nary in New- York. This young lady was mistress of 
every accomplishment, and the idolized of her pa- 
rents. Beautiful and wealthy, she was surrounded by 
suitors, and no ball or party among her acquaintan- 
ces was considered complete without her presence. 

" It was on her birth-night, when she had attain- 
ed her seventeenth year, that she spent the evening 
from home, accompanied by her father, in her rich 
Ml dress; she never looked more beautiful, and her 



30 UNCLE TOM's cabin AND 

friends remarked tliat site never was so happy and 
joyous. 

" It was late wlien they set out to return home, 
and as they stopped on the way to leave a lady, Mr. 
Cauda having gone to wait on her to the door, the 
coachman negligently dropped the lines, and the 
horses started off on a run. As they turned the cor- 
ner, Miss Cauda fell through the open door upon the 
side walk, and was so injured that she never spoke 
after. 

" It was said that the monument was designed by 
herself for a beloved aunt, who lies with her in the 
same spot. The grief of her parents none but parents 
can imagine ; and her death cast a gloom upon the 
whole circle of her acquaintance." 

"A melancholy story, indeed," sighed Eugene, as 
they rose and walked on. The sun was now declin- 
ing, and they entered their carriage to return. It was 
nearly dark when they arrived at her father's dwell- 
ing, and on parting with Miss Tennyson, Bucking- 
ham pressed her hand while he observed, "I omitted 
to mention that I am obliged to leave for home to- 
morrow ; as I have received a letter from my father 
insisting on my immediate return — (this was true,) 
and I hope when I again visit the city, you will per- 
mit me to call on you." 

Julia was both surprised and embarrassed. She 
became quite pale, and stammered forth — " Is it pos- 
sible ? I — I am sorry— I mean — I regret that you go 
so soon." 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 31 

Then Eugene, much agitated drew from his coat 
pocket his daguerreotype, saying, " In the meantime, 
will you condescend to accept this?" 

Julia started, hesitated, and at last replied "Not 
nowy Then after a moment, " but I shall be happy 
to see you when you return." 

And thus they parted. 

As Buckingham, after leaving his horse at the 
livery stable, walked slowly down Broadway to the 
Astor, he mused thus: "'Not now P that surely 
means that she will accept it sometime. She evident- 
ly regards me favorably — and in time she will con- 
sent to be mine. Mine ! will that glorious presenti- 
ment of my life be ever realized ? Yet, she said, ' not 
now^ and these two short words shall be the talis- 
man upon which my hopes are centred." 

At this moment a hand was laid upon his shoul- 
der, and a voice exclaimed, "I say, Buckingham, 
what are you thinking about? I have been walking 
beside you these ten minutes and you never saw 
me." 

Eugene started from his reverie and colored deep- 
ly as Arlington Melville looked closely in his face. 
" I was thinking," he replied, 

"Of course — but on what subject? So, it is a 
secret ?" 

Our hero to evade the question, replied, " I am 
going home to-morrow." 

"Oh! To the South. That is a place I have 
often desired to visit, said the other, " I have heard a 



32 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

great deal about planters and slaves, and should like 
to make my own observations. I think I will go 
sometime." 

"Why not now?" quickly exclaimed Eugene. 
" Come with me, you have nothing to prevent you. 
I should be most happy to introduce you to my 
father and sister." 

"Sister, have you a sister? "Well, let me see. 
When do you go ?" 

" To-morrow." 

The young man mused for a few moments. 
Then shaking Eugene by the hand, he exclaimed — 
" I will go — many thanks for your invitation. Good 
bye, till to-morrow 1" And he ran into the Irving 
House, leaving his friend to continue his walk alone. 

Arlington Melville was a cousin of Julia's; and 
had .just arrived from England, where his parents 
still resided. Although Eugene had often met him 
at Dr. Tennyson's house, where he seemed perfectly 
at home, he boarded at the Irving. Buckingham liked 
him much, especially as he saw plainly that he was 
no rival in the affections of the beautiful Julia, with 
whom his friendship was only a cousinly regard. 
Young, handsome and gay, with an educated mind, 
and heir to a considerable property in England, he 
was calculated to win admiration and esteem from all 
his acquaintance. Therefore Eugene was much pleas- 
ed at the idea of his company on his journey home. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 



CHAPTER IV. 



• To die is to be banished from myself; 
And Julia is myself; banished from her, 
Is self from self, a deadly banishment." — Shakspcare. 

And though the slave be fettered in the flesh, 
" He doth not feel his chains." — Tupper. 



Buckingliam and liis young friend arrived at tlie 
dwelling of the former on the last day of June. They 
received a warm welcome from the Colonel and the 
fair Cora, who made a deep impression upon the 
heart of Melville. Her soft languid eyes, and her 
gentleness of demeanor, quite fascinated him. 

Eugene had much to tell regarding his adventures 
in the ISTorth, nor was he long silent concerning the 
lovely Julia, Saying little in regard to his love for 
her, he related to his father and sister the whole his- 
tory of his romantic acquaintance with the accom- 
pHshed Miss Tennyson. After hearing him out, the 
old gentleman declared that if he had any idea ol 
marrying her, he would banish him both from home 
and affection. "She is a portionless girl," said he ; 



34 UNCLE TOM's cabin AND 

"besides, Engene, you are well aware of my justly 
grounded prejudices against the Northerners, chiefly 
on account of their abolitionism, and their interfe- 
rence with our slaves. Although many of our neigh- 
bors have sent their sons to Northern colleges, I was 
determined you should not enter one ; and if I had 
known of your projected visit to New- York, I should 
certainly have prevented it. Therefore, banish any 
ideas regarding a connection in that quarter, I will 
never listen to them." 

Eugene, as usual, made no reply, but was just as 
determined as before to think of none but Julia. Al- 
though forbidden to address her, both by her father 
and his, he had a secret presentiment that she alone 
was to be his earthly partner, and as, 

' Hope springs etprnal in the human breast," 

he felt for the time being almost content. In the 
meanwhile, he considered that Julia might become 
engaged to another during his absence ; that he had 
given her no proof of his affection, although he felt 
confident that she preferred him ; and that it was ne- 
cessary, perhaps, for the happiness of both, that he 
should declare his passion. Therefore, on the anni- 
versary of "our Glorious Independence," he penned 
her the following delectable epistle : 

" Buckingham Hall, July 4th, 18 — . 
"Dear Miss Tennyson, 

" I have no doubt you will be surprised on receiv- 
ing this epistle from me ; yet I hope you will pardon 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 35 

the liberty I take, and excuse uiy presumption in ad- 
dressing you ; wliicli I trust you will, for you know 
that Cupid has neither patience nor prudence. 

'' This letter is dated on the ' Glorious Fourth,' a 
day which brings to our remembrance the immortal 
'Declaration of Independence,' and I think that it 
may very appropriately be used for other dedaroiions ; 
therefore I have decided to make one of these to you, 
and in the language of one of the illustrious signers 
of that immoi'tal document, ' sink or swim, survive or 
perish, live or die,' I give my heart and hand to this 
declaration. 

" You will perhaps consider me premature in this 
matter, huidear lady! if you know anything of the 
exquisite pangs of love, you will not think so. I 
hope you will not sacrifice me now^ Avhem I am just 
beginning to live. No! you could not be so cruel. 

" As the wound I have received from the little 
' blind archer ' has nearly proved mortal, you only 
can prevent my dissolution. For heavens sake ! dear 
lady ! have pity on me ; heal this wound and put me 
out of misery. The fact is, I can neither read, write, 
study, or do anything else as I ought, for my mind 
reverts incessantly to you, you are the theme of my 
meditations by night and by day. 

" I confess I am not worthy of your varied charms,, 
but I will endeavor to make myself more so; and 
may that Great Being, in whose hands are held our 
destinies, influence you to decide in my favor. 



36 UNCLE T O M ' S CABIN AND 

"I shall await your answer in anxious suspense. 
In the meantime I remain, 

"Y^ours devotedly, 

" Eugene Buckingham." 

In the course of a fortnight he received a reply, 
indefinite indeed, but which allowed him to hope. 
In the meanwhile he had written to her father as 
follows : 

"Honored Sm, 

" As I received, when at your hospitable dwelling 
many tokens of friendship and esteem from you, I 
was emboldened, perhaps with too much assurance, 
to place my affections on your matchless daughter. 
No, I am wrong, I loved her years ago, before I was 
allowed the delight of gazing upon her in reality. 
She has long been my ideal and my idol^ and the one 
great presentiment of my life is, and has been, that lue 
are to he united. 

" May I hope that you will not scorn my alliance ? 
That you will one day allow me to call you by the 
endearing name of 'father?' Should you, however, 
entertain any prejudices against my Southern educa- 
tion, let me knov^ them, and I will endeavor to con- 
vince you that they are not well founded. 

" I will refer you to Gen. P. of Charleston, one of 
our first men, for any information you may require 
concerning my character and standing in this com- 
munity. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 37 

"Trusting that you will pardon my presumption, 
I subscribe myself, 

" Your bumble servant, 

"Eugene Buckingham." 

After some time our hero received the following 
reply: 

"Mr. Buckingham, Sir, 

" According to your request, I wrote to Gen. P. 
and have just received bis answer. He gives you a 
fair cbaracter, and intimates tbat your standing is 
good. He also says tbat you are quite wealtby, and 
own a plantation in Georgia, well stocked with slaves. 

" Now, sir, to be candid witb you, I will say, tbat 
from wbat I bave seen and beard, I entertain, per- 
sonally, a bigb opinion of you ; but, sir ; I bave one 
great objection to urge against your suit; tbat is, 
you are too ricJij you own too much stoch ; and I never 
can consent to suffer my daughter to marry a slave- 
holder^ a man wbo engages in tbat horrid traffic 
of buying and selling human flesh and blood, and 
treating bis fellow men as brutes. 

" I bave no more to say, you bave my answer. 
" Yours, &c. 

"J.M.Tennyson." 

On reading tbis epistle Eugene's bopes fell below 
zero; but on reflection, and remembering tbat bis 
motto was " Perseverance," be concluded to write 
again to tbe Doctor, in order to remove ; if he could, 



38 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

some of his unjust opinions of slave-holders. There- 
fore he penned the following : 

"Dr. Tennyson, Respected Sir, 

" I take the liberty of again addressing you, in or- 
der, if possible, to remove some of your erroneous 
ideas regarding slavery and slave-holders. I find the 
generality of the JSTortherners are prejudiced against 
us, but I suppose one reason of this is, because they 
have been accustomed to look on the dark side of the 
question, in every respect. You, yourself, perhaps, 
have never given the bright side an hour's thought : 
no doubt you have been much engaged in reading 
works against slavery, or listening to some free-soiler 
or abolitionist who exaggerates the evils of it in the 
highest terms. If you were to visit the South, and 
travel through it with an unprejudiced mind, your 
ideas in regard to the ' evils of slavery ' would be 
much changed ; you would find that we are not the 
inhuman monsters the abolitionists represent us to be. 
You might occasionally come across a hard master, 
but, as a general thing, the slaves are treated kind- 
ly ; for if a planter was even disposed to treat them 
otherwise, public opinion would compel him to use 
them well. 

"As for 'treating them like brutes,' I can assure 
you it is a slander of our enemies — I have not seen a 
grown slave whipped for years — and as to working 
them hard : when we task them, they generally get 
through in half a day, so that they are not obliged to 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 39 

do more than a common day's work in two days. 
When they get sick they are always allowed a phy- 
sician, and are much better fed and clothed than any 
free negroes around them. In fact, they regard the 
latter with contempt, and say that 'they pity the 
poor nigger that has no master to take care of him.' 
I think you would also find them much more con- 
tented and happy than many of your Northern co- 
lored people. 

" Some of your States have already passed laws 
prohibiting free negroes from settling within their 
borders; in others, they are not permitted to give 
evidence in courts of justice, or even to send their 
children to the same school with the whites, so that 
where the former are not numerous enough to form 
a school by themselves, they are obliged to remain in 
ignorance. You will not, if you can avoid it, even 
ride in the same conveyance with them ; in short, 
notwithstanding the outcry against slavery, your free 
blacks are used with more tyranny and contempt 
than any of our slaves ; for we never send them to 
poor-houses or suffer them to beg about the streets. 
On the whole, I think it is a mistake to suppose that 
slavery has been abolished in the North, as your ne- 
groes are subjected to the most humiliating of slave- 
ries, universal tyranny of prejudice ; they may be 
said, indeed, to be as they really are, masteiiess slaves. 

'''See that there be not a beam in thine own 
eye, before thou attemptest to pull the mote oat of 
thy brother's,' might be applied to some of your phi- 



40 UNCLE TOm's cabin AND 

lanthropists. I have often thought, that if George 
Thomson, M. P. the celebrated Enghsh abolitionist, 
had devoted as much of his time and energy towards 
ameliorating the condition of the iJoor white slaves of 
England, as he has in travelling through our country, 
producing agitation between the North and South, in 
his vain attempt to cause the emancipation of our 
slaves, he would have gained more credit for himself 
and country, and done more good for the cause of 
suffering humanity. It is a well known fact that in 
the manufacturing and mining districts of England, 
(especially the latter,) the poor are obliged to endure 
more hardships than we can imagine. There are men 
working in some of the mines who have rarely beheld 
the light of day, there have they been brought into 
the world, and there, without education of any kind, 
have they been obliged to work, some of them har- 
nessed, like dogs, to a cart, and crawling on their 
hands and feet through the dismal chambers of these 
damp caverns, till an early death terminates their 
miserable existence. O shame, where is thy blush ? 
Can it be possible that such things are suffered in the 
nineteenth century? And b}^ the very people, too, who 
presume to lecture us on the treatment of our slaves ! 
The. two subjects should not be mentioned on the 
same day — no, not even in the same year. 

" Did ever a Southerner use his slaves as the an- 
cient Eomans are said to have done? which was, to 
place those who were either superannuated or sickly, 
upon an Island of the Tiber to starve. It was a pro- 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 41 

fessed maxim of the elder Cato to sell his worn-out 
slaves at any price, rather than maintain what he 
considered a useless burden. We on the contrary, 
think that we cannot render too many comforts to our 
old and faithful servants, whose condition, as De- 
mosthenes said of the Athenian slaves, is far better 
than that of their free brethren. 

"If your Northern men were to possess themselves 
of correct information regarding slavery and slave- 
holders, they would have a better opinion of us ; in- 
stead of swallowing down, without digestion, the vile 
denunciations of ultra-abolitionists and political dema- 
gogues, men who have 7iot the good of the colored 
man at heart, but who make the slavery question 
their hobhi/j with the vain expectation of riding into 
power thereon: agitators, who, to gain their ends, 
would jeopardise the very existence of our ' Glorious 
Union,' that noble structure which has been reared 
by the most skilful architects, and repaired and pre- 
served by the most finished workmen. Yet these de- 
magogues, like the Ephesian Erostratus, who fired 
the Temple of Diana solely to acquire fame^ would 
not scruple to apply the sacrilegious torch to our mighty 
Temple of Liberty, merely to gratify their foolish and 
criminal love of notority. Their thirst for power is 
so great that they would sooner ' rule in Hell than 
serve in Heaven.' God forbid that they should suc- 
ceed in their infernal designs, or that our glorious 
republic should commit suicide. 

" Is that difficult problem, ' wliethcr man is capable 



42 uncletom'scabinand 

of self government, or can a republic be permament,' 
now to be solved ? and will the solution be, that after 
a fair trial of three-quarters of a century, the re- 
public of the United States was dissolved in blood- 
shed, anarchy and chaos ? Methinks at such a catas- 
trophe the Goddess of Liberty would cover her face 
with her mantle, and shed tears of hhod over the 
wreck of her model Republic. 

" Such a state of things would undoubtedly be pro- 
duced if the schemes of these Northern and Southern 
agitators were carried out. 

' Moil who, living, forfeit all renown, 

' And doubly dying, shall go down 

' To the vile dust from whence they sprung, 

* Unwept, unhonoured and uw-himg.'' 

" But I hope the wisdom of those true Patriots^ the 
Union men^ will prevail, as I trust that Heaven has 
ordained that our Eepublic shall last ' till time shall 
be no more.' 

' Sail on, sail on, O ship of state, 
Sail on, Union strong and great, 
Humanity with all its fears, 
With all its hopes of future years, 
Is hanging breathless on thy fate. 

' We know what masters laid thy keel, 
What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, 
Who made each mast and sail and ropo 
What anvils rung, what hammers beat, 
In what a forge, in what a heat 
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope.' 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 43 

" You see, sir, that I am a Union man, altliougli I 
do liail from the NuUification State, and that I abhor, 
from the depth of my heart, agitators and dis-union- 
ists, whether they belong either to the North or 
South. 

" Pardon this long epistle, and believe me to be 
" Yours, most respectfully, 

"E. Buckingham." 

To this he received the answer that follows : 

" Mk. Buckingham, Sir, 

" I must confess 3^ou have enlightened me on some 
points in regard to the treatment of slaves ; as you 
judged rightly in supposing that I had never travel- 
led through the South for the purpose of studying 
the workings of the system ; but you have not made 
a convert of me yet. I am as confident as ever that the 
system is wrong in the main, for is it not contrary to 
scripture, to nature, andTto common humanity ? The 
Bible commands us to ' love our neighbor as our- 
selves,' to ' do unto others as we would have them 
do unto us;' and how can any man fulfil this scheme 
of universal benevolence who holds an unfortunate 
person captive against his will? who brings him 
down to the most insupportable of human condi- 
tions ? who considers him his private property, and 
treats him, not as a fellow being, nor as one of the 
same common parentage as himself, but as an animal 
of the brute creation ? 



44t UNCLE 



CABIN AND 



" Anotlier objection to the system is, that the Scrip- 
ture assures us of future rewards and punishments — 
and how can that man be called to an account for his 
actions when these actions are not at his own dis- 
posal ? This strikes at the very root of slavery, and 
shows conclusively that the system is incompatible 
with the Christian religion. It is also contrary to our 
civil law; and we acknowledge in almost the first 
sentence of that immortal document, the Declaration 
of Independence, 'that all men are born free and 
equal,' while we have practised a living lie ever since 
that axiom was given to the world ; and how much 
longer we shall be guilty of it. Heaven only knows. 
To suit our practice, thai part of the Declaration 
should have read thus : ' All men are born free and 
equal — except negroes!' 

•' The only way we can rid ourselves of the re- 
proach continually cast upon us by other nations, 
will be for slave-holders to emancipate their slaves 
and send them to Liberia. 

" But, I have said enough to convince you that I 
hold the same opinions that I did when I first wrote 
to you. 

" Yours truly, 

"J. M. Tennyson." 

To this Eugene again made reply : 

"Dr. Tennyson, Dear Sir, 

" Your letter has created hopes within me that you 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 45 

are under conviction, but do not want to acknow- 
ledge it. It has actuated me to address you again. 

" I cannot agree with you that slavery is con- 
demned in Scripture — as we find it mentioned in 
many parts of the sacred volume, without any disap- 
proval. 

"We read of the existence of slavery soon after 
the deluge. Abraham obtained the favor of the Lord 
because he commanded his children and household 
after him^ to do the will of God. Egypt was a mar- 
ket for slaves, (See the history of Joseph,) and Homer 
mentions Cyprus and Egypt as slave-markets at the 
time of the Trojan war. Tyre and Sidon were noted 
for the traffic. Joel, 3 : 8, 4, 6. The Scripture also 
commands servants to obey their masters. Eph. 
6 : 5, 6, 7, 8. And St. Paul, after converting One- 
simus to the Christian faith, sent him back to his 
master Philemon, from whom he had been a fugitive 
slave. So that slavery was not formally prohibited 
by the Bible. 

"As to the argument concerning future rewards 
and punishments, that you lay so much stress upon, 
and say that it ' strikes at the very root of slave- 
ry^ and shows conclusively that the system is con- 
trary to Scripture ;' allow me to say, that this is a 
palpable sophism ; for, as the slave is not a free agent, 
his master compelling him to act Ids pleasure, the 
master, and not the slave, is accountable for those 
actions, 

"Palcy says, 'a man is said to be obliged, when 



46 UNCLE tom''s cabin and 

lie is urged by a violent motive resulting from the 
command of another.' The violent motive with the 
slave is the command of his master, coupled with the 
fear of punishment, and with the soldier to obey his 
commander ; hence, it is evident that the master in 
the one case, and the commander in the otlier, as- 
sumes the responsibility both to God and man, of the 
actions of the men who are compelled to obey them. 
" You say that slavery is contrary to civil law — but 
Justinian remarks, that civil law gives nations the 
power to mahe Slaves^ and Paley tells us that the law 
of nature allows slavery to arise from three causes — 
1st. from crimes, 2d. from captivity, 8d. from debt ; 
and we read also in history that the Helots became 
the slaves of the Spartans merely from the right of 
conquest. 

" But, in whatever way slavery may have origi- 
nated, it was practised almost universally from the 
earliest ages up to the close of the twelfth century, 
when it was suppressed in Europe, but about the 
time of the discovery of the American continent the 
African slave-trade was commenced again by the 
Portuguese, and other nations followed their example. 
The system was continued until the beginning of the 
present century, when it was abolished by law in 
America, England and France, and many other of the 
European nations. At present there are compara- 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 47 

tivelj fe^v slaves brought from Africa; and those 
few are smuggled into Cuba, or some of the South 
American provinces. This is a concise history of 
slavery. 

"No man can be more opposed to the African 
slave-trade than I ; and I also dislike the internal traf- 
flc as it is carried on in our Southern States. Slave- 
dealers there are held in contempt by all honorable 
men. But this system will continue as long as Vir- 
ginia, Maryland and North Carolina remain as slave 
states, as a great portion of those states are worn out, 
and will not grow cotton, tobacco and other produce. 
Consequently, the inhabitants find it more profitable 
to breed slaves to supply the other States, and stock 
the new slave territory. 

" But what would you have us do with our slaves ? 
"Would you have us emancipate them at once, and 
throw them upon the tender mercies of the world ? 
This would never do, as most of them know nothiog 
about business, and could never make a living for 
themselves if they were free ; they would only be a 
nuisance to the country. But do not suppose we all 
maintain slavery from choice, far from it, as some of 
us are slave-holders from compulsion, (as you will 
learn in the sequel,) and would gladly get rid of our 
slaves if we could, as they cost us more than free la- 
bor. Should the crops fail, some of the planters are 



48 

nearly eaten out of house and home by their nume- 
rous slaves. 

''You mention Colonization: of having them sent 
to Liberia, but, sir, this is out of the question ; for, at 
the rate the Colonization Society have been shipping 
them off for the last thirty years, we would never 
get clear of the system. During that time there have 
only been about seven thousand colonized. We 
might as well attempt to clear one of our large fo- 
rests by cutting down a tree every year, for while we 
are making the removal, thousands are growing up 
instead. Yet, should all the slaves be emancipated, 
the expense of sending so many to such a distance 
could not be incurred. Still, I am in favor of Colo- 
nization, but not on account of its vain endeavors to 
abolish slavery. I am in favor of it because it spreads 
the Christian religion and civilization among the 
millions of ignorant natives in Africa. 

"It is evident, from the increase of our slave 
population, that to get rid of the system, we must 
adopt some more feasible plan than that Of Colonizing 
them in Africa, as it is estimated that at the present 
ratio of increase, said population would amount to 
twelve millions at the close of the present century. 

" My plan to abolish slavery would be for Go- 
vernment to purchase Cuba, or else to appropriate 
M large part of our Southern Territory, cither in Utah 



B U C K I N G II A M HALL. 49 

or New Mexico for tlie purpose of Colonization. If 
tliis plan was carried out, and jour Nortliern fana- 
tics and agitators were to let us alone, in a few years 
you would hear of one State after another declaring 
itself free. Had not these men interfered with our 
institutions, Kentucky and Virginia Avould have been 
free states before this time. 

* Very Eespectfully, 

"E. Buckingham." 

The next letter from Dr. Tennyson concluded the 
correspondence. 

" Mr. Buckingham, Sik, 

" You accuse me in your last letter of advancing 
sophistical arguments, but, I think that accusation 
would more appropriately apply to your last epistle. 
In the first place, you wish to convey the idea that 
Abraham was commended by the Lord for owning 
slaves, but, sir, this is a palpable perversion of Scrip- 
ture ; as he was only praised because he commanded 
his * children and household after him to keep in the 
way of the Lord.' You will observe that his chil- 
dren and servants are mentioned in connection ; they 
were treated in many respects alike, they were cir- 
cumcised alike by the command of the Lord, and 
they received the same moral and religious training. 
Could your masters of the present day receive the 



50 

same commendation for tlie moral and religious train- 
ing yon give yonr slaves ? I trow not. 

" Another scriptural perversion : you say that St. 
Paul, after converting Onesimus to the Christian 
faith, sent him back to his master Philemon, from 
whom he had been a fugitive slave. But, sir, you 
cannot strain this passage to encourage the restora- 
tion of fugitive slaves, as the benevolent Apostle in 
his letter to Philemon, remarks farther on, ' I send 
him back to you, but not in his former capacity, not 
now a servant, but above a servant, a brother be- 
loved.' So that Onesimus returned to Philemon not 
a slave, but a minister of the gospel, and afterwards 
became Bishop of Ephesus. 

"It is true that the Scripture did not formally 
condemn or prohibit slavery, but the reason is ob- 
vious — slavery, at the time of the introduction of 
Christianity, was a part of the civil constitution of 
most countries ; and if Christianity had abruptly de- 
clared that the millions of slaves should be made free, 
it would have been universally rejected as promul- 
gating doctrines that were dangerous, if not destruc- 
tive, to society ; therefore it never meddled, by any 
positive precept, with the institutions of the times ; 
for though it does not positively say, ' you shall nei- 
ther buy nor sell, nor possess a slave,' it is evident 
from the mild diffusion of its light and influence, and 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 51 

from its general tenor, that it militates against the 
slavery system. 

" Christianity brought about the abolition of sla- 
very all over Europe about the close of the twelfth 
century ; and through its influence slavery had de- 
clined in heroic Greece and papal Eome centuries be- 
fore. It will also be the main cause of freeing the 
slave in our own country. God grant that period 
may soon arrive ! 

" This is the last letter I will address you on this 
subject, and I do not wish to receive any more from 
you, as it is evident that there is nothing to be gain- 
ed by further correspondence. 
" Yours, &c. 

"J. M. Tennyson." 



52 



CHAPTER V. 



" The master of a well ordered household is kind to his servanta, 
yet he exacteth reverence, and each one feareth at his post." 

Tiippcr. 



During Arlington Melville's stay witli his friend, 
his time was principally em|)loyed riding about and 
visiting the surrounding country, sometimes accom- 
panied by the Colonel ; occasionally by Eugene, and 
oftener by Miss Buckingham, with whom the young 
Englishman had become almost as much in love as 
our hero was with Julia. Cora was certainly de- 
lighted with his society, and as her father made no 
objection, they were very often together, riding, 
walking, or sitting in a vine covered arbour at the 
farther end of the spacious garden, in the rear of the 
mansion; where, with books and music their time 
passed quickly and happily away. But Cora was 
always attended by Eosa, her favorite slave, who was 
a pretty light mulatto ; and the presence of the girl 
prevented Melville from saying many tender things 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 53 

bj Avay of declaring his passion. Yet his dark, elo- 
quent eyes spoke plainly what his lips never whis- 
pered ; and Cora understood, and replied in the same 
delightful language. 

One day Eugene expressed his intention of visit- 
ing his Plantation in Georgia, and invited Melville to 
accompany him, which he willingly agreed to do. 
The young men therefore left Charleston in the morn- 
ing train for Macon, Georgia, near which place was 
Fairfield Plantation, the domain of our hero. They 
arrived at Augusta the same evening, and immedi- 
ately changed cars for Macon. While doing so Mel- 
ville was much amused, as well as surprised, in watch- 
ing the removal of a lot of slaves from one train to an- 
other. The reader must know that there are always 
a number of "stock cars" on these Southern rail- 
roads, attached to the end of the passenger train, for 
the purpose of freighting slaves. These cars are per- 
fectly round, like a coal wagon, or looking like a 
large hogshead on wheels, yet capacious enough to 
hold near a hundred ; and here the poor creatures 
are huddled together like so many pigs or cattle go- 
ing to market, and when the weather is warm they 
suffer intensely from the heat and closeness of the 
cars. 

Melville observed that there w^ere several lots of 
slaves in these cars which liad been bou.oht in Yir- 



54 UNCLE T M ' S CABIN AND 

giiiia for tlie New Orleans market. It was in the 
dusk of the evening, and each trader or owner went 
round hunting up his own. property, which was ra- 
ther difficult to do, as he scarcely knew one from 
another. But the slaves knew their proper owner, 
and with a grin on their shining ebonj^ faces, called 
out, " I 'longs to you, massa, I 'longs to you." AVhile 
others would cry "I no 'longs to you, sir; I 'longs 
to dat oder man wid de red face and big whiskers." 

At length the slaves were arranged to their mas- 
ters' satisfaction if not to their own, and the cars 
started. Soon after, our friends began to doze in 
their comfortable seats, for the passenger cars were 
as well furnished as the others were miserable. 

At the break of day some of the passengers were 
aroused by the car-agent, to look at a curiosity called 
Stone Mountain, near Atalanta, which was quite a 
resort for travellers. It rose in the shape of a pyra- 
mid, several hundred feet, on an open plain, and was 
ascended by a winding road. Plalf way up was situ- 
ated an elegant hotel, and the top of the moimtain 
was surmounted by a statue. 

They soon left it behind, however, and as they 
passed onward various amusing and pleasant sights 
met their inquiring gaze. At length, in the course 
of the afternoon. Eugene and Arlington arrived at 
Macon, after which half an hour's ride brought them 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. . 55 

to Fairfield Plantation, Avbicli tliey had no sooner 
reached than dozens of slaves young and old ran 
out of the house, with the greatest appearance of de- 
light, to welcome their young master. Eugene shook 
hands with many of them, and spoke kindly and 
frankly to the others. 

After a slight refection, the 3^oung men went 
forth to survey the premises. As they passed along 
in the rear of the mansion, Melville noticed with 
much pleasure the neatness of the out-buildings and 
the rural appearance of the white-washed cabins, in 
which resided the most of the slaves. They were 
surrounded by flowers and creeping plants, and in a 
little garden attached to each were vegetables and 
herbs. There were plenty of chickens and other poul- 
try running about: and Melville thought that the 
numerous cabins placed in rows at the rear of the large 
house, gave the place the appearance of a little town. 

" One would imagine," said he, ''that these crea- 
tures were happy, with so many little comforts ; but 
I never can believe that a slave can be happy." 

" They are happy," replied his friend. '' You see 
these little gardens and that poultry — well, these 
negToes, when their daily task is finished, cultivate 
their vegetables and attend to their poultry until they 
are fit for market, and then they will sell, for a good 
price, either to the family of their master or other per- 



56 UNCLE T M ' S C A R I N AND 

sons, their little stock of produce. The money thus 
gained is spent by them and their families in pur- 
chasing gay clothing and trinkets, of which they are 
particularly fond. So you see they are allowed many 
privileges which not only render them more content- 
ed with their lot, but naturally cause them to be 
greatly attached to their master or mistress." 

As the young men walked on, the little woolly 
headed blacks peeped timidly out at them from be* 
hind the garden palings, and as they approached 
them, would run away giggling and chattering like 
so many parrots. Melville could not help laughing 
at the drollery of their looks, half naked as they 
were, and observed — " These little fellows seem hap- 
py enough." 

" Why should they not ? They have nothing to 
do. Children are never tasked until they are ten or 
twelve years old." 

After they had finished their survey of the habi- 
tations, the young men extended their walk to the 
cotton and rice fields, which were in a high state of 
cultivation. Here several slaves were yet at work 
pulling cotton, one of the overseers standing near 
with a whip in his hand, which however was seldom 
used in this well-ordered plantation. When the poor 
creatures saw Eugene their joy was expressed in loud 
shouts of delight. He spoke to them all, and directed 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 57 

the overseer to let them go home. After they had 
gone, the friends continued their ramble. They pass- 
ed along large fields of cotton, tobacco, and rice, all 
presenting a flourishing aspect, and on their return 
rested awhile in a lovely grove of palmettos, whose 
glossy, fan-like leaves hung gracefully down, and 
were gently swayed to and fro by the evening 
breeze. 

'' I cannot help pitying these poor negroes," said 
Melville, '' although I see that they are kindly treat- 
ed by their master. Poor, ignorant creatures ! they 
are obliged to work day after day with a whip at 
their backs, and receive nothing in return but their 
simple food and scanty supply of clothing." 

" What need have they of any thing else ?" re- 
joined Eugene, " they are clothed warmly enough for 
the climate, they have enough to eat, and they are as 
happy as ignorance can be. AYe use them kindly, 
and yet we must keep them under our control, we 
must keep them in fear ; for should their natural 
tiger-like disposition get the upper hand, it would bo 
death to the planter." 

"How can that be?" inquired Melville, "when 
they evidently love their master with all the simpli- 
city of their nature. Surely they could not harm him. 
Were he a cruel, hard-hearted man, such as I have 

several times seen among the Planters in your native 

3* 



68 UNCLE tom's car in and 

State, it would not be surprising that they should 
wish to rid themselves and the world of a monster. 
But not a master such as your father and yourself." 

Eugene smiled. "If those Northern abolitionists 
were to stop their meddling in our concerns, the con- 
dition of the slaves would be much improved. They 
come among us as friends — and while enjoying our 
hospitality, whisper sedition and conspiracy into the 
ears of our slaves, and often go so far as to steal them 
from us. If they were to let us alone, there is no 
doubt that, in the course of years, not a slave State 
would be in existence ; and for my part I should re- 
joice to see that time arrive. If I could, I would this 
moment emancipate every one of my stock, but unfor- 
tunately for my happiness, they are all entailed to me 
and my posterity by my uncle, who died a couple of 
years since." 

"I am surprised to hear you talk thus, my dear 
Buckingham. Your happiness f what has that to do 
with possessing stock, as you call it ?" 

Eugene seemed somewhat confused, and did not 
reply immediately. At last he said, " My dear friend, 
I might as well confide in you, as you have an inte- 
rest in the lovely being who is the day star of my 
existence." Then, as Melville listened, surprise ga- 
thering on his handsome countenance, our hero re- 
lated to him the storv of his life, his love and his 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 59 

disappointment. When he had finished there was a 
long silence between the friends. At length Melville 
broke through it by exclaiming, " I too have a con- 
fession to make. Listen, Eugene ! I — my dear friend 
— I love your sweet sister Cora." 

" You love my sister!" cried the other much sur- 
prised, " and does she return your love ?" 

" I think so — I believe so — but I am not sure. I 
have never had an opportunity of declaring myself, 
because, (and this I consider one of the evils of slave- 
ry,) she is eternally attended by a little black girl 
who watches me continually Avith a pair of great roll- 
ing eyes, as if she had strong suspicions that I in- 
tended to steal away her mistress." 

Eugene could not help smiling, but he promised 
his friend that he should have his countenance in the 
matter if he was sure that his sister returned the 
young man's affection. After further conversation 
they returned to the mansion, where they found an 
excellent supper prepared for them. 

When they had finished their meal, the young 
men took their station on a settee out on the veranda, 
to smoke a segar or two. For a while there was an 
unbroken silence between them, each being absorbed 
in his own reflections. The moon was very bright^ 
although often obscured by fleeting clouds, and the 
night was a cool and pleasant one. 



60 UNCLE T O M ' S CABIN AND 

"Well," observed Melville at last, throwing away 
wliat remained of liis segar, " I must confess I Lave 
been greatly edified this day, and very mucli amused 
too." 

" I was just thinking," rejoined his companion, 
puffing out a volume of smoke, " that I could tell joi\ 
a story to amuse you. Shall I ? or are you amused 
enough? Take another segar?" 

" No. What's the story ? Come.'* 

" It is about a capital joke played off upon one of 
the Korthern abolitionists by some of our Charleston 
wags." 

" Very well — go on." 

Eugene leaned back on his seat, took his segar 
from his mouth, and began : " About two years ago 
an ultra- abolitionist from Syracuse, New- York, came 
to the cit}^ of Charleston on some business. His name 
was Harford, and he remained some time in our cit}^ 
Being very much in awe of Judge Lynch, this man 
kept his ideas on slavery to himself, except when he 
chanced to meet with a 'kindred spirit,' and then his 
denunciations against slavery and slave-holders were 
frightful indeed. Among other strange whims he de- 
clared that he would never speak to, or touch the per- 
son of a slave while he staj^ed in Charleston, and 
that he would not taste a morsel of bread or anv 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. Gl 

other thing that had, to his knowledge, been made or 
cooked bj a slave. 

" He stayed at the Planter's Hotel, and was in the 
habit of attending St. Philip's Church near bj. The 
true reason of his devoutness was this : he had been 
very much taken by a beautiful young lady who was 
a constant attendant at the church. She was always 
richly and fashionably dressed, had lovely black eyes 
and long raven curls, and a form of exquisite sym- 
metry. 

"By inquiry he found that she was a milliner, 
and resided in the city. One of his Southern acquain- 
tances, a complete wag, by the by, who was well ac- 
quainted with her, undertook to introduce the young 
man to this idol of his affections. It was done ; and 
as Harford was a personable fellow, with a pretty 
good address, he found that he daily gained favor in 
her eyes. 

"Several other young men got wind of it, and 
doing all they could to help the matter onward, soon 
had the delight of seeing the abolitionist married to 
the beautiful — slaved 

"Slave!" echoed Melville, "ha! ha! ha! a capi- 
tal joke that. Did the fellow fmd it out ?" 

" You shall hear. As soon as the rogues had 
them fast married, and in the midst of their honey- 
moon, they let out the secret, giving him undeniable 



^2 UNCLE TOm's cabin AND -- 

proof of her being a slave, set up iu business by her 
owners, who resided in the country, to whom her 
profits were regularly given. 

" The fact is, any body unused to slaves, would 
be mistaken in some of them ; they are so white. The 
only way to distinguish a slave from a white person, 
as I should say, to prove the existence of negro blood 
in the veins, is by examining the finger nails : the 
white crescent at the root in us, being wanting in 
them." 

" That's a new idea !" cried Arlington, " if I were 
not an Englishman I would examine my own, that 
is, if there was light enough." 

"Do you mean to insinuate, Mr. Melville," said 
Eugene rather haughtily, " that we Americans are 
all somewhat tainted?" 

" Excuse me, my dear friend, I had no such in- 
tention. But do go on — how did the abolitionist get 
over his disappointment ?" 

" He never got over it. As a marriage with a 
slave is not legal, he was at liberty to leave her at any 
moment, yet he was so tormented and crowed over 
by those who knew his real sentiments, that mortified 
and crestfallen, he suddenly and privately escaped 
from the city, never to return." 

As it was growing late, and the young men were 
weary with their journey, they soon retired to their 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 63 

respective rooms, and in a little while silence reigned 
over tlie whole household. 

One pleasant morning the young friends, while 
strolling over a part of Fairfield Plantation, where 
the slaves were at work, observed some of them at 
the other side of a thick hedge; and overhearing 
their names mentioned, stopped to listen to the con- 
versation. 

"Who dat massa Mervil?" said one big fellow 
called Jeff. 

"Dun 3^ou know?" retorted uncle Pete, an old 
gray headed negro; "he be de friend o' massa Eu- 
gene. Nice young gemmen too — he give ole nigger 
dollar toder day." 

" What fur he give3^ou dollar, I wan' to know?" 
cried a mulatto boy at a little distance. 

" Gaze I catch him fine large squirrel, all white. 
He say he want it for hansum missy." 

"How you catch him? 'lucidate dat question! 
You can't run arter a cat, " said the boy with a ma- 
licious grin. 

Uncle Peter with a contemptuous look replied, — 
" My dog Jowler catch him, he fust rate at dat, I kin 
tell you." 

Jeff now called out — "I say Uncle Pete! is you 
been do what you say ?" 

"What dat? I foo^it what 'twas." 



64 

"Dah now! 'Pears like you fogit eberjting — 
you be grow so old. Didn't I tell you len' me dat 
possum dog to night, an' you say yes ?'' 

'• Well, slio' 'nough. But you don't wan' no dog 
to-night." 

''What fur I don't?" 

" Gaze, you goin' to corn shuckin'." 

"No I isn't. Why you say dat? I'se gwine to 
ketch possum for Polly." 

''You big fool, Jeff 1" cried uncle Peter disdain- 
fully, " dun you know Polly aint goin' to hab you 
arter all you run arter her. She take all you gib her 
' — she wear de nice tings, an' she eat up all de melons 
an' taters, an' eberyting. You let possum alone. 
Polly play you trick some ob dese days." 

" How you know dat ?" cried Jefi', looking much 
concerned. 

" Gaze, can't I see far mysef. She too fond o' 
Gar'lina Jake. Polly's a knowin' gal, I tell you." 

"Dah now !' returned the other, "I don't beleibe 
a word o' dat ; caze why, when I gib her bead neck- 
lace las' night, she tell me dat she lub me all ober." 

Here there Avas a general cachinnation among the 
other slaves around, which our friends could hardly 
refrain from joining; but as they did not wish to be 
discovered, they were obliged to control themselves. 

"Well, now," continued uncle Pete, " 'pears like 



ivn 




BUCKINGHAM HALL. 65 

you liaint got no sense. 'Taint no more flan yester- 
day dat I heard Car'lina Jake ax massa Eugene if he 
might hab a fam^ly^ an' massa ax wlio 'twas, an' he 
said it was Polly." 

Jeff's sable countenance fell below zero. "Dah 
now ! aint dat too bad ? Arter all I gib her dis whole 
year. Why, dis mornin' I make her beautiful joresent 
ob red hankercher. 'Pears like I neber hab no luck." 
And poor Jeff walked off' with a very disconsolate air. 

Eugene and his friend then continued their walk, 
laughing at the disappointment of the crestfallen 
lover, and coming to the conclusion that no station 
in life was too humble for the spirit of coquetry to 
flourish in. 

That evening the ''corn-shucking" or husking, 
came off. The corn was piled in large heaps before 
the roAV of cabins, and although it was a bright 
night, being the fall of the moon, each little window 
of the slaves' habitations was illuminated by a couple 
of tallow candles, so that qyqyj object was distinctly 
visible. 

Around the large corn heaps were seated over 
two hundred men and women, (many of whom were 
from the neighboring plantations,) tearing off the 
husks and throwing the ears into separate piles ; and 
in the midst of their employment all were chatter- 
ing, laughing, singing and telling stories, much to the 



66 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

amusement of tliemselves and the young gentlemen, 
wlio were seated a little apart observing the pro- 
ceedings. 

On the top of one of the heaps was mounted 
uncle Cato, one of the principle slaves, and a great 
favorite of Eugene's. He was noted for his talent 
of improvisation. He would sing one or more lines 
of a song and the chorus would be repeated by all 
the otherSi Some of the women had excellent voices, 
especially the coquet, Miss Polly, a pretty mulatto, 
who had Caroline Jake beside her, and who wore 
the identical scarlet handkerchief on her head in the 
form of a turban, smiling now and then on Jeff, 
who took no notice, but sat at a distance scowling 
defiance at his rival. 

One of the songs ran thus : 

" The lubly Moon it shine so bright, 
We doesn't want no oder light, 

Chorus: sing darkeys, sing! 
De man up dare, he look at us, 
He tink we make a great, big fuss, 

Chorus : sing, darkeys, sing ! 
Possum-dog he cotch a coon, 
Nigger skin him pretty soon, 
I Chorus: sing, darkeys, sing ! 

Sold de skin and got de chink, 
Berry sorry dat I drink. 

Chorus: sing, darkeys, sing !" 

After this, whiskey was handed about by the 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 67 

overseers, and the slaves becoming very merr}^, be- 
gan to caper and sing more noisily than before. 

'' Massa Eugene liab good whiskey, 
Makes de niggers bery IViskey, 

Chorus : shucking ob de corn. 
O, ho! de niggers jolly ! 
See dab, de pretty Polly ! 

Chorus : Shucking ob de corn. 
Dat ar Jake, he sits beside her. 
Will she hab dat big black spider? 

Chorus : shucking ob de corn. 
Jeflfs so mad, he look like tunder — 
O-o-o-o! wlio dat hit me wid de corn dah ? 

Chorus: JelY, he trevv dat corn." 

By this time the husking was finished, it being 
quite late, and as the song was concluded they all 
jumped up and had a regular break-down, exhibit- 
ing such ridiculous antics that Melville and Eugene 
laughed till they could laugh no longer from sheer 
exhaustion. 

Then Buchingham ordered them to disperse and 
retire to their cabins; and the friends returnins: to 
the house, soon after sought their beds. 



CS UNCLE TOM'S CARIN AND 



CHAPTEE YL 



" He says he loves my daughter ; 
" I think so too : for never gazed the moon 
" Upon the water, as he'll stand and read. 
" As 'twere, my daughter's eyes." — Shakspcare. 



After remaining at Fairfield Plantation about a 
week, during wliicli time frequent rides and walks 
were taken by the j^oung men around the adjacent 
country, Eugene thought it time to be returning 
home. On their departure the slaves assembled a- 
round them with evident regret at their going, and 
with one voice they cried, " God bless young massa, 
and soon bring him back." 

They were soon seated in the cars and whizzing 
rapidly towards home. On the road Melville ob- 
served many interesting objects that had before 
escaped his notice ; among other things the Spanish 
moss, as it is called, a singular production, growing 
in long waving tresses upon the trees of the forest, 
and appearing to derive its nourishment from the 



D U C K 1 N Q II A M HALL. 09 

atmosphere alone, as it sends none of its libers into 
the tree for sustenance. A small quantity taken 
from one tree and hung upon another, instead of 
dying from being torn from its first hold, will soon 
spread itself over the entire tree, and sending down 
from every branch a long waving streamer, as it 
were, gives the forest a dense and gloomy aspect 
which must be seen to be realized. This moss, in its 
prepared state, much resembles hair, is remarkably 
elastic, and is used in this country and exported to 
Europe for the manufacture of mattrasses. 

About ten o'clock in the forenoon of the second 
day of their journey, something in the machinery of 
the locomotive got out of order, and the train was 
obliged to stop in the midst of a forest ; many of the 
passengers left the cars, our friends among the rest. 
Here were about two dozen negroes employed in cut- 
ting timber. At least some of them were, and others 
lay about under the trees lazily enough, chattering, 
laughing and singing, (apparently perfectly happy,) 
such scraps as these : 

" Ole Virginny, neber tire — 
" Eat hog and homiuy, and lie by de fire ;" 

many of them composing their ditties extempore, 
without regard to rhyme or reason. 

At length the machinery was put in order and 



70 UNCLE TOm's cabin AND 

the train again started. In the course of the after- 
noon our friends reached Charleston, and in a little 
while stood on the veranda of Buckingham Hall, 
where Cora was the first to meet them, and her broth- 
er might easily divine, which he did, by the bright 
blush on her fair cheek, that her heart was lost to his 
friend. " Cora," said he, playfully patting her on the 
head, "you see I have brought him back safe. I 
suppose you have been lost without him for the past 
week." 

Cora blushed still more deeply at these words, and 
looking up, met the speaking eyes of Arlington 
glowing upon her. Nothing was left her but to es- 
cape into the house, which she did with much more 
expedition than her natural indolence promised. 
The young men followed, and were soon joined by 
the Colonel, who inquired concerning the state of his 
son's plantation ; and seemed well pleased with the 
favorable account Eugene gave of it. 

That evening Cora told her brother that their fa- 
ther had invited F. Jones and his daughter to dine 
with them. With an exclamation of impatience, 
Eugene declared he would not stay in the house 
while the hated object remained there, but Cora as- 
sured him he would not be sorry if he yielded to his 
father's wishes in some respects. "Kot that I wish 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 71 

jou to marry lier," continued the young girl, "but 
if you only show her a little countenance." 

"A very little countenance indeed it will be," in- 
terrupted her brother; "but to please my father and 
you, I will consent for once to suffer the martyrdom 
of her presence." 

Melville, who was near, smiled and observed, " I 
do not wonder at his dislike to Miss Jones, from what 
he has told me concerning her. It certainly must be 
a dreadful thing to be forced to marry one you hate, 
and be banished from the sweet society of one you 
love. Do you not think so, fair Cora?" There was 
a silvery sweetness in his voice, and a soft glow in 
his dark eyes, that went to the heart of the young 
girl, and she could but murmur — " I think so." 

Eugene, thinking the time and place very meet 
for a declaration, and willing to do as he would wish 
to be done by, rose and left the room, taking with 
him little Eosa, the slave, on some pretence or other. 
Arlington looked around and understood his friend's 
manoeuvre. Cora's eyes were bent upon an album 
in her lap as her lover again spoke in the same sweet- 
ly modulated tones. " So you think, fair girl, it is a 
sad thing to be banished, without a hope, from the 
side of the being you adore ?" 

Cora made no answer, but her head drooped low- 
er over her album. He took her hand, and bending 



72 UNCLE T M ' S CABIN AND 

Ms knee before her like a lover of tlie olden time, 
continued — " if you think so, dearest, you cannot 
banish the suppliant at your feet, for he loves you — 
adores you ! Have you the heart to banish me, sweet 
Cora?" 

Cora opened her lustrous eyes and softly answer- 
ed, "No!" 

"Nor I either, I declare! I'm sure I could not !" 
laughed a voice behind him, as the delighted lover 
was in the act of raising her hand to his lips. Mel- 
ville started to his feet, and Cora covered her face 
with her hands in deep confusion. The Colonel stood 
quietly in the middle of the room. The young man 
marched up to him with great resolution and accost- 
ed him thus : " Sir, have I your sanction?" 

" You are a pretty fellow indeed ! Is that the way 
you return my hospitality, by attempting to steal 
away my only daughter? There is no knowing 
what Avould have happened had I not entered the 
room, perhaps you would have had the audacity to 
kiss her." 

"I think it very likely I should," boldly answer- 
ed Melville. 

" I must confess I think you have a good stock of 
impudence," said the Colonel, half laughing; "how- 
ever, I forgive you, and as I chance to know some- 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 73 

thing of youself unci your relatives, I will not refuse 
my sanction." 

The young man could scarcely find words to ex- 
press his thanks, and Eugene, by this time making 
his appearance, was much gratified to see the course 
things had taken, 3^et could not repress a deep sigh 
at the thought of his own unhappiness. 

The next day at noon, F. Jones, Esq. and his 
Amazon daughter made their appearance at the HalL 
The Colonel gave them a warm reception, and Eu- 
gene a cold and stately one. As for Cora and Ar- 
hngton, they were polite and attentive to the guests 
without being famihar. Our hero saw that his fa- 
ther's eye was upon him, and he made a desperate 
attempt to be civil to Miss Susanna Jones. 

Before dinner the guests, accompanied by the 
Colonel and the rest, took a walk in the garden and 
grounds. Susanna had with her a little white poo- 
dle, of which she was extravagantly fond, and as they 
strolled along he was continuall}^ doing some mis- 
chief or other ; either chasing the peacocks or run- 
nino' amono; the flowers and bitins^ them from their 
stems. CoL Buckingham did not appear to notice 
liim, but Cora, vexed to see lier phants destroyed, 
caught up a switch and struck him; whereat Miss 
Jones exclaimed with passion, " How dare you strike 
my dog?" 



74 

Cora made no reply, but Arlington observed, "I 
think lie deserves a little correction ; Miss Bucking- 
barn's flowers are rare." 

Susanna looked around as if surprised. " 0, did 
be burt the flowers? That was wrong. Here Diana," 
continued sbe, addressing ber attendant slave, "take 
bim and sbut bim up in tbe bouse, be deserves 
punisbment, but I prefer to correct bim myself," 
witb an angry look at Cora, wbo, bowever, took no 
notice of it, but walked on, leaning on tbe arm of 
ber lover, witb ber usual languid air. 

Tbis little incident, trifling as it was, indicated a 
trait in tbe cbaracter of Miss Jones tbat caused Eu- 
gene to dislike ber more tban ever. " Wbat a wife 
sbe would make," be tbougbt, " witb ber domineer- 
ing passionate disposition." 

At two in tbe afternoon dinner was announced. 
During tbe meal Eugene was silent and abstracted, 
wbile tbe rest were conversing witb mucb vivacity. 
Miss Jones, wbo, by bis father's management, was 
placed beside bim, chattered in bis ear like a magpie, 
although be scarcely gave her a word in return, not- 
withstanding be met tbe Colonel's angry eye upon 
bim every time be glanced in tbat direction. 

After dinner they repaired to tbe parlor, and 
Colonel Buckingham approaching bis son and Susan- 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 75 

na, who were looking over a portfolio of Cora's draw- 
ings, observed, " Did my daughter tell you, Miss 
Jones, of her engagement ?" 

" jSTo, she did not," answered that lady with some 
surprise. 

"There is the gentleman;" pointing to Melville, 
who was seated with Cora at one of the windows. 
" And I think," he continued in a jesting tone, " that 
we ought to have another engagement soon. What 
say you Eugene ?" 

Susanna put her fan before her face, and tried very 
hard to raise a blush, but she only looked tickled, 
while the young man, starting as if from a reverie, 
exclaimed, " Sir 1" 

His father gave him a glance that plainly said, '' I 
am not to be trifled with," but Eugene cared not, he 
only waited to hear him speak. 

" My respectable friend, Mr. Jones, has agreed 
with me that it would be a meet and advantageous 
thing for all parties, that the persons and fortunes of 
our children should be united. Therefore, as Miss 
Jones is not averse and Eugene can not be, I propose 
that the wedding come off by the latter end of next 
month." 

" And I second that proposal," said Jones, advanc- 
ing. 

This scene would have made an excellent picture. 



76 UNCLE T O M ' S CABIN AND 

There stood the Colonel, tall and commanding, his 
arms folded, and his eyes bent sternly on his son — 
near him was Jones, a small, dark man, of insigniii- 
cant appearance, looking on with a smirking coun- 
tenance — his daughter Susanna close to our hero, her 
head turned aside and her handkerchief before her 
face, trying to look modest — in the back-ground 
Cora and Arlington looking up with much surprise 
on their countenances, and Eugene himself, his tall 
form drawn up to its full height, his dark eyes flash- 
ing, and every lineament of his countenance expres- 
sing anger and disdain. 

Full two minutes passed before another Avord was 
spoken. Then Eugene, in a voice trembling with 
subdued passion, ejaculated — "Am I d, slave f livill 
not submit to such tyranny ! I ivill not be forced to 
marry against my will !" And as he spoke, he broke 
abruptly from their presence and was seen no more 
that day. 

Jones sneaked into a corner, looking disappointed 
and foolish, while the elder Buckingham walked the 
floor with hasty strides, endeavoring to subdue the 
rising anger within him ; and Susanna, after standing 
silent awhile, concluded to go into hysterics, and suc- 
ceeded very well in frightening Cora and the young 
slaves. Melville, bursting with laughter, ran incon- 



BUCKINGHAM H A L L . 77 

tiuentl}' out of the house; and after indulging in 
merriment awhile, commenced singing as a finale to 
the performance, 

*' oil, Susanna, don't you cry for me !" 



78 UNCLE tom's cabin and 



CHAPTER yil. 



" The wanderer was alone as heretofore : 
" The beings which surrounded him were gone, 
" Or were at war with him ; he was a mark 
" For blight and desolation." 



After Avliat had passed, Eugene was resolved 
again to quit his home, and in two days time found 
himself on his way to New -York, accompanied by 
Melville, Avhose private affairs obliged him to absent 
himself from his betrothed. Cora was very unhap- 
py at the idea of his leaving her. "Perhaps," she 
sighed, " You will never return." 

"Cruel girl!" was his reply, to harbor such a 
doubt. 

Yet, their parting was one of love and regret ; 
and when her brother in his turn, bade her adieu, 
there was a tear in his eye, which brought a shower 
to those of Cora. Eugene took no leave of his father, 
for the Colonel kept purposely aloof: and when the 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 79 

young friends stood together on tlie deck of tlie noble 
steamer, as she proudly sailed out of the beautiful 
bay of Charleston, there was a silent gloom envelop- 
ing the hearts of both. 

The first day of their passage was calm and plea- 
sant; but on the next night the rain fell in torrents 
and the sea was fearfall}^ wrought ; and to add to this, 
most of the passengers grew sea-sick, and then, as the 
boat ploughed through the rolling waves, there was 
some heaving. The Captain appeared to look upon it 
all as a joke, and called it only a salt water breeze ; 
but the' passengers learned from him next morning 
that he had been so much alarmed as to have the 
boats in readiness, expecting every minute, from the 
height of the gale, to see the pipes of the engine blow 
away. In a short time, however, the gale abated con- 
siderably, and our friends turned into their berths, 
resigning themselves to the kind care of Him who 
sayeth to the sea, ''Be still!" and it obeyeth. 

ISTothing worthy of note occurred during the rest 
of the passage, and on arriving at the good city of 
Gotham the young men put up at the Astor, where 
Eugene met a warm reception from his former friend 
and host, Capt. Coleman. Yery soon after his arri- 
val, our hero, accompanied by Melville, paid a visit 
to the lovely Julia, who received them as each wished 
to be received, and for a short season Eugene felt 



80 UNCLE TOM's cabin AND 

happy in her presence. After an agreeable conver- 
sation, he took his leave ; and her cousin then gave 
her a relation of his own adventures, and the trials 
and persecutions of his friend. If she was pleased 
with the first, she was much moved by the latter, and 
exclaimed several times, while drops glistened in her 
beautiful eyes, " Poor fellow ! poor Eugene !" 

The next day Buckingham called again, and find- 
ing his beloved alone, had a long conversation with 
her, during which he urged her to become his wife, 
and even ventured to propose an elopement. But 
Julia would not listen to such a proposal ; she loved 
him, she said, but would not disobey her father. 

" Gain his consent, dear Eugene, and I am yours. 
Not otherwise." But they parted as engaged lovers : 
he placed a diamond ring upon her finger, and they 
exchanged daguerreotypes. 

Before he left the house, Buckingham resolved to 
press his suit once more with her father. He there- 
fore sought him in his library. The Doctor correctly 
divined the subject the young man wished to enter 
iTpon, and inwardly resolved to be inflexible on the 
one point. After listening quietly until Eugene had 
exhausted all his rhotaric in endeavoring to soften 
his obdurate heart, the old Doctor replied, " If you 
will prove your love and devotion for my daughter, 
by emancipating your slaves, I will not refuse to 



B IT C K I N G 11 A M HALL. 81 

grant my sanction to your mutual wishes — but, not 
until then." 

"Would to God I could do it !" cried the young 
man with much emotion, " but it is impossible. They 
are entailed hj the will of my uncle as long as Geor- 
gia shall remain a slave State." 

Dr. Tennj^son only replied, "Well sir, if that is 
the case, you have had my mind on the subject long 
ago. My opinions, like the laws of the Medes and 
Persians, are unchangeable. As long as you are a 
slave-holder you cannot marry my daughter with my 
consent." 

Eugene was greatly affected by this replj^ " 0, 
sir!" he cried, "you cannot surely be so cruel as to 
make two human beings miserable by your prejudi- 
ces — and one of them your only daughter. You 
know too, that I have the will but not the j^ower to 
comply with your request, as I am the involuntary 
inheritor of this patrimony." 

"Mr. Buckingham," said the Doctor, rising, 
"enough has been said on this subject. It is useless 
to waste any more words." 

On this our hero took up his hat and with a for- 
mal " Good evening " took his departure, overwhelm- 
ed with disappointment and despair. 

As he proceeded down Broadway, Eugene was 

plunged in melancholy reflections ; and it was not 

4* 



82 

until he had been sitting an hour or two in the gen- 
tleman's parlor at the Astor, that he recalled to mind 
his great presentiment — his belief that the destinies 
of himself and Julia were one day to be united. This 
thought caused him to shake off his despondency, 
and he began to form plans for future action, in the 
midst of which he was accosted by Arlington, who 
had just come in. 

" Well, Eugene," he cried, taking a seat beside 
his friend, "how goes it with you now? Have you 
succeeded with the old gentlemen?" 

"Indeed I have not," replied the other, sadly 
enough. 

" I am sorry for you, sincerely I am. But what 
do you intend to do next ? Are you going home ?" 

"No. To be persecuted again? What happi- 
ness, would I find thereV 

" Will you stay here then ?" 

"I cannot — I must not. I shall travel. I must 
find change of scene and excitement. I will start 
for Niagara to-morrow, and proceed from thence by 
the lakes through the Western States. Will you ac- 
company me?" 

" I would with pleasure, but just now it is impos- 
sible, I have business in Kew-York that must be at- 
tended to. I could not go." 

" I am sorry. Your society would be so acceptable." 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 83 

Here the conversation of the young men was in- 
terrupted by an acquaintanco of Melville's, with whom 
he had promised to go to the Broadway Theatre to 
hear Forrest. Arlington introduced him to Eugene, 
and after some words of ceremony, he joined with 
Melville in persuading our hero to accompany them. 

The next morning Eugene prepared to leave the 
city without venturing again to visit La Fayette 
Place, even to bid farewell to his beautiful idol. The 
carriage was announced, his baggage secured, and 
accompanied by Melville, who wished to see him 
off, he proceeded to the wharf The boat, which hap- 
pened to be the Isaac Newton, one of the Hudson's 
floating palaces, was just ready to start. The friends 
shook hands warmly. "Eemember me to Juliil," 
said Eugene, while Arlington bid him be of good 
cheer, for he would assist him, with all his power, to 
attain the cherished wish of his heart. 

It was on the morning of the first of October, 
18 — , that Eugene found himself rapidly gliding over 
the waters of one of the most beautiful rivers in Ame 
rica, and one Avhose scenery is unequalled. It was a 
day of unclouded splendor ; and as our liero stood 
upon the deck, looking around him, his heart grew 
saddened, and he became absorbed in contemplation.. 

The month of October is calculated to eugender- 
melancholy reflections. The evidence of decay which 



84 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

Nature exhibits in the fading and falling of her gor- 
geous drapery, is calculated to impress us with a 
sense of our o^Yn mortality — that we too, must soon 
become like the " sere and yellow leaf," and mingle 
with the clods of the valley — or as the Poet of the 
Seasons, says — 

*' Pass some few years — 
Thy flowery Sirring, thy Summers ardent strength, 
Tliy sober Autumn lading into age, 
And pale concluding Winter comes at last, 
And sliuts the scene.'' 

But why should Autumn make us melancholy ? 
If we have improved the bounteous smiles of Heaven, 
every day may and will have its share of joy. 

Yet neither the picturesqueness of the Palisades, 
nor the grander beauty of the highlands, nor the 
elegant villas of tlie merchant princes of Gotham, 
built on the bluffs, interested him then, for his mind 
w^as continually reverting to the idol of his heart, and 
he was too unhappy to derive pleasure from sur- 
rounding objects. After pacing to and fro on the 
hurricane deck for some time, Eugene descended to 
the cabins to take a look at his fellow passengers, 
and found they numbered over three hundred, all on 
various errands bent ; and they certainly presented a 
motley assembly. Almost every State in the Union 
was represented, and there were also many foreigners. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 85 

At one end of tlie cabin stood a band of politicians, 
discussing the affairs of the nation with as much 
anxiety as if each had the care of government upon 
his own shoulders ; and at the other, a group of emi- 
grants were talking about their prospects in the "far 
West." In the ladies saloon, old and young ladies, 
children and nurses were amusing themselves in dif- 
ferent ways ; some employed with their needlework, 
others walking about, many reclining on the elegant 
softly cushioned sofas and divans, and several em- 
ployed in reading either magazines, or the last new 
novel. 

Here Buckingham remained some time, contrast- 
ing the beauty of some of the really charming young 
girls with that of his Julia ; and in his eye, none could 
compete with her. 

The day sped onward — and towards evening the 
boat arrived at Albany, where Eugene concluded to 
stop until the next night. In the morning he went 
abroad to view the city and its environs, and after 
dinner retired to his room to sleep for a few hours, as 
he was to travel in the night train for Buffalo. Six 
o'clock found him in the cars rapidly skimming 
through green fields, valleys, rocks, and over little 
streams and great rivers also. Darkness came and 
still the train sped on, occasionally stopping, at 
which times our traveller with other passengers 



80 UNCLE TOm's cabin AND 

would step out to look around him. The night was 
clear and the stars gleamed — and when he would re- 
turn to his seat and endeavor to slumber, he found it 
impossible. The next day he felt so tired and sleejDy 
that he scarcely looked about him, and was rejoiced 
when the train stopped at Buffalo. Here he remain- 
ed all night, and in the morning started in the train 
for IS^iagara. Towards the middle of the day the 
hoarse roaring of the mighty cataract sounded uj^on 
his ear. His feelings were then changed from melan- 
choly gloom to awe and reverence ; and when the 
cars stopped, he left his baggage to be taken to the 
Cataract House, and without delay bent his steps to- 
wards Iris Island, where, as he stood, the falls be- 
neath him 

" Exerting all his soul, 
** To take the vast idea in, and comprehend the whole ;" 

he could not help exclaiming — 

'* These are thy works, Parent of good ! 
"Almighty ! Thine this imiversal frame: 
" Thyself how wondrous then !" 

That evening he penned the following for the 
Fall's Kegister : 

" White-foaming, boiling river, 
Thy rai:)ids ceaseless roar, 
For ever, on for ever. 

Till Time shall be no more. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 87 

" I hear thee, now I hear thee — 
At evening's silent hour ; 
Whenever I am near thee 
I feel thy magic pov^^er. 

" Green be the w^aters ever 

Wreathed with a foam of snow, 
Flow on, majestic river, 
Unstemm'd, resistless, flow !" 

At Niagara our hero remained two days, viewing 
the Falls at every accessible point. On the eve of his 
departure for Chicago he retired to his room and 
wrote to his ever present idol, thus : 

"Dear Lady, 

" Amid the glorious beauty and grand sublimity 
of Niagara, I feel alone. Amid the gay and fashion- 
able throng of visiters here, my mind reverts inces- 
santly to you. Oh ! that we could become nearer re- 
lated ! that I could call you by a nearer and dearer 
name 1 But, alas ! I fear that I am destined to be a 
wanderer, banished from the endearments of love. 
However, wherever I am, my heart is always with 
you. Your image is constantly before me. I often re- 
cal to mind the happy hours I have spent in your 
sweet society — the delightful ramble we took togeth- 
er in Greenwood some time ago, admiring the flow- 
ers — my mind being occupied the while by a fairer 



88 

flower. Oh, that I could obtain thatfx)wer to adorn my 
Southern parterre ! You cannot imagine, dearest, 
with what intensity I love you — with what utter lone- 
liness my heart is filled when I am away from you. 
" Think of me sometimes in your nightly orisons, 
and pray for your unhappy 

" Eugene." 

Our traveller left Buffalo by the Oregon, and here 
again encountered a severe storm. He had not been 
long on board before 

" The waters darkened, and the rustling sound 
" Told of the coming gale." 

Black clouds were driven on in thick array, and big 
drops of rain along Avith strong gusts of wind soon 
ripened into a storm, whose fury became every mo- 
ment greater. The passengers were much terrified, 
and at one time the Captain almost despaired of sav- 
ing the vessel. But, after some hours the tempest 
gradually abated, and the sun struggling through the 
dense clouds, shone brightly and clear over that vast 
inland sea. Lake Erie. 

At length the Oregon arrived at Detroit, at which 
event, Eugene, as well as many of his fellow pas- 
sengers, rejoiced, for they had suffered much from 
the Lake sickness during their trip. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 89 

At this city lie remained a short time, and then 
started for Chicago, which he reached in a couple of 
days. He was so much pleased with the beauty of 
this place that he spent several days in its vicini- 
ty. He frequently ascended the cupola of the Lake 
House, and with the aid of a telescope viewed a vast 
and boundless prairie on one side, and on the other 
could see for miles over the dark green waters of 
lake Michigan. As it was, he enjoyed in a measure 
the beautiful scenery around him, but would have 
appreciated it far better had the melancholy which 
continually preyed upon his mind been removed. 
Owing to this Eugene became quite unwell, and 
when he left Chicago, in the stage for Peru, he was 
not fit to be out of bed, as he was in a high fever. 
For two nights he got no sleep, and on the second 
was rendered much worse by being terrified at the 
sight of a burning prairie, through which their 
journey lay. 

The night Avas clear, and a slight breeze agitated 
the air. As the stage, drawn by four spirited horses, 
advanced rapidly through the prairie, a sense of 
smoke began to be perceived by the passengers, and 
looking out they saw, apparently several miles in 
advance of them, a great volume of smoke illumi- 
nated by a brilliant, spreading flame, which appear- 
ed to be manv miles in extent. As thev drew erra- 



90 UNCLE TOm's cabin AND 

dually nearer, all, including our invalid traveller, 
acknowledged that although a fearful, it was a splen- 
did sight. The beaten track alone remained un- 
touched, which, as far as the eye could see, seemed 
like a black serpent meandering through the prairie ; 
while on both sides of it vast sheets of flame wav- 
ed and pointed in the air through the thick black 
smoke, like so many demons exulting in their terri- 
ble career of destruction. 

Still the stage advanced, for it could not go 
back, and the bright flame came sweeping onward 
to meet it with frightful vehemence. The driver 
now urged his frightened horses to a full gallop, 
fearing, as did the passengers, that the flames might 
attach themselves to the vehicle as it was, the heat 
and smoke nearly blinded and almost suffocated 
them. But onward they went, scathless, for a full 
mile, and the blaze began to decrease — at last to be 
extinguished, leaving after it nothing but a black 
desolation. At length the weary and trembling 
steeds were suffered to relapse into a trot ; and when 
the escaped travellers looked behind them, they 
saw in the distance the same bright, awful ocean of 
flame careering onward with the same devouring 
fury. 

All were terrified in a more or less degree, but 
Eugene, from his illness, felt the effects of his fright 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 91 

much more than the others, and has often said, that 
to the last day of his hfe he woukl never forget that 
night of terror. 

The following sonl-stiring lyric, descriptive of 
a burning prairie, will be read with interest wher- 
ever a taste for American scenes and incidents pre- 
vails : 

THE PRAIRIE ON EIRE! 

BY GEORGE P. MORRIS. 

The following ballad is founded, in part, upon a thrilling story of the West, 
related by Mr. Cooper, the novelist. 

The shades of evening closed around 

The boundless prairies of the West, 
As, grouped in sadness on the gx'ound, 

A band of pilgrims leaned to rest: 
Upon the tangled weeds were laid, 

The mother and her youngest born, 
Who slept, while others watch'd and pray'd. 

And thus the weary night went on. 

Thick darkness shrouded earth and sky — 

When, on the moniing winds there came 
The Teton's shrill and thrilling cry. 

And heaven was pierced with shafts of flame ; 
The sun seem'd rising through the haze. 

But with an aspect dread and dire ! 
The voiy air appeared to blaze ! 

O God ! the prairie was on fire ! 

Around the centre of the plain 

A belt of flame retreat denied. 
And, like a furnace glowed the train 

That wall'd them in on every side : 



-92 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

Alul onward rolled the torrent wild — 

Wreaths of dense smoke obscured the sky! 

Down knelt the mother and her child, 

And all — save one — shrieked out " We die !" 

" Not so !" he cried — " help — clear the sedge ! 

" Strip bare a circle to the land !" 
That done, he hastened to its edge, 

And grasped a rifle in his hand : 
Dried weeds he held beside the pan, 

Which kindled at a flash, the mass ! 
Now " fire fight fire !" he said, as I'an 

The forked flames among the gi'ass. 

Oil three sides soon the torrent flew, 

But on the fourth no more it raved ! 
Then large and broad the circle grew, 

And thus the pilgrim band was saved ! 
The flames receded far and wide, 

The mother had not jirayed in vain ! 
God had the Teton's arts defied ! 

His scythe of fire had swept the plain. 

But, to proceed with oar story : on reacliing 
Pern our traveller took a boat to St. Louis, and from 
that place another to Kashville, making as little de- 
lay as possible on account of his illness. Before he 
reached the last mentioned place, while walking one 
morning on the hurricane deck, he suddenlj^ fell 
down in a swoon. One of his fellow passengers, 
who happened at heart to be a ''good Samaritan," 
came to his assistance, raised him in his arms, and 
with the help of one or two others carried him to 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 93 

his berth, where this true friend attended him and 
procured him medicine until he seemed to grow 
better ; while many of the other passengers, like the 
"Priest and the Levite," passed by without deign- 
ing to notice him. 

How soothing to the sick in a strange land, 
the welcome attentions of a stranger! 'Tis like a 
dream of home. Eugene felt this, and Avas deeply 
grateful. 

After arriving at Nashville he took passage in 
the stage for Huntsville, Alabama, which started 
some time before day. There was but one pas- 
senger besides himself, and the journey would be 
a long one. 

And now, sad to relate, since Eugene had left 
Chicago he had suffered so much both bodily and 
mentally, that his illness terminated in brain fever, 
and he became suddenh-, helplessly insane. 

But, I will give the account of his derangement 
in his own words, as related to me after his res- 
toration; for, unlike many of the insane, he per- 
fectly remembered every circumstance -that occur- 
red during his unfortunate malady. 



94 



*'^ 



CHAPTER YIIL 



See liow the noble mind's o'erthrovvn. 

" I know not how the case may be, 
*' I tell the tale as told to me." 



" I left Kasliville about five o'clock in the morn- 
ing, for Huntsville, and in the stage was but one 
passenger beside myself. He was a perfect stran- 
ger to me, a gentleman from Kentucky, who was 
going on by Charleston to one of the eastern cities, 
in order to embark for Europe. His name was 
Stanley, his age about thirty, and he possessed a 
kind and benevolent physiognomy, which accorded 
well with his actions towards me during my unfor- 
tunate malady. I have always looked upon this 
crisis in my illness as a remarkable special Provi- 
dence — a blessing from heaven, that this man should 
have been placed in my way to protect me on my 
journey home. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 95 

" The morning was rather cool, and I had my 
buffalo robe wrapped about me : but though I was 
chilled in body, there was a burning fever in my 
brain. I had never in my life before felt as I did 
then, yet for a time I conversed calmly and 'ration- 
ally with my fellow passenger. But, when we had 
got about thirty miles from Nashville, suddenlj^ I 
experienced a feeling exactly similar to an electric 
shock vibrating through every fibre of my frame, 
and from that moment I was insane. 

" I started up, and throwing off my cap, pulled 
the buffalo over my head, and began shouting loud- 
ly ; gesticulated with my arms, and threw myself 
into all sorts of attitudes. This paroxysm lasted for 
several minutes, and then subsided slowly. I think 
I shall never forget the looks of Stanley as he ap- 
peared when I became calm enough to observe him. 
He was crouched into the farthest corner of the 
stage, his face of an ashy paleness, and his eyes 
glaring wildly with affright. When I spoke to him 
he scarcely answered, and seemed to expect every 
moment would be his last. 

" My intellect was still clouded, and I told him 
solemnly not to mention the miracle he had just 
seen performed on me — for I was now a spiritual^ 
being. Indeed, my first impression was, that my 
guardian angel had stood on one side of me and the 



96 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

evil spirit on the other, and that there had been a 
terrible strife between them as to which should gain 
possession of me; but as the former became vic- 
torious, I was endowed, in some mysterious way, 
with the powers of a celestial being, and would 
soon mount to Heaven, like some of the prophets 
of olden time. 

''However, at intervals I conversed quite ration- 
ally with my fellow passenger, whose fears had in 
some degree subsided ; but on reaching Columbia I 
was attacked with another paroxism, and leaping out 
of the stage as it stopped, I commenced shouting and 
running about the streets, attracting the attention of 
a great number of people. 

" There is a high bridge crossing the Duck river 
at this place : it is built upon the perpendicular rocks 
of this rapid stream; and to this bridge I sprang 
with tlie intention of leaping from it into the river, 
imagining that, as I was immortal^ there was no dan- 
ger of being drowned. But as I was in the act of 
making the fatal plunge, my friend Stanley fortu- 
nately reaching the spot in time, seized me, and, as- 
sisted by some of the bystanders, carried me off, not 
without some trouble, to the hotel, Avhere I remained 
2L short time, amusing the persons around me by my 
actions and conversation, which were wild in the 
extreme. 



L U C K 1 N U il A M H A L L . 97 

'' At length, when the stage stof)ped at th'e door 
for us they attempted to get me into it, but in vain ; 
I was determined not to leave the hotel. They caused 
it to drive away a short distance in hopes that I 
would change my mind, but in this they were mis- 
taken, and Stanley was obliged to let our baggage go 
on without us. 

'' Towards evening this paroxysm abated, and I 
ordered my friend to procure me a bath, which he 
cheerfully attended to, as he knew it was best to 
comply with my requests if at all reasonable. We 
were then conducted into a back room, in which there 
blazed a cheerful fire, but even here I was not secure 
from impertinent curiosity, for many persons follow- 
ed us to this retreat. It was very wrong, and I 
thought so at the time, to allow them admittance. 

^' "When Stanley took off part of my clothing, pre- 
paratory to putting me in the bath, he found a 
money -belt buckled around my waist. This gave 
rise to many conjectures, concerning myself and my 
profession. Some of the bystanders thought me a 
merchant going to the Eastern cities for goods ; 
others, that I was a drover : but most of them ima- 
gined, more correctly, that I was merely travelling 
lor amusement. At length one person seeing my 
name marked on part of my clothing, inquired, with 
a crreat deal of interest, if I was not the son of CoL 



98 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

Buckingham, of Charleston. This man, no doubt, 
was acquainted with my father, but being very jea- 
lous of my dignity, I would not deign to answer 
him. 

" At last I ordered the room to be cleared, which 
was no sooner done than I made a rush to the door, 
stripped as I was, to my under garments, in order, as 
I said, to make my ascension into the upper regions. 
However, I was soon brought back by my friend 
Stanley, and in a short time after bathing I was put 
to bed. I became calmer after a while, and slept 
some during the night. 

" The next day being Sunday, I objected to start 
in the stage for Pulaski, as I considered it very 
wrong to travel on that holy day, but by much per- 
suasion my kind friend got me in the vehicle. The 
passengers besides Stanley and myself were two la- 
dies and a gentleman. Before we had proceeded far 
I again became excited and commenced talking about 
my aerial ascension, which alarmed the females very 
much. However, I was not violent just then, and 
when I ceased talking, I saw they regarded me with 
a great deal of sympathy, particularly, as during my 
ravings I had repeatedly called upon my darling 
Julia. They conversed with Stanley concerning me, 
and their conjectures were, alas ! too true : that I had 
been disappointed in love, which was the cause of ray 



B U C K I N a H A M HALL. 99 

present deplorable condition. Ob, ye unreasonable 
and hard hearted parents ! what will ye not have to 
answer for, by thus causing, or being the means of, 
the greatest affliction that can visit poor human 
nature. 

" As we proceeded on our journey I became very 
rude and troublesome, so much so that my com- 
panions were obliged to place my buffalo robe be- 
tween them and me to protect themselves from my 
ill conduct. As is generally the case with insane per- 
sons, strange as it may seem, T treated my best friend 
Avorse than any other person, for I spat in poor Stan- 
ley's face, struck him, and called him all manner of 
hard names whenever he attempted to render me 
any service. 

'^ When the stage stopped to change horses, or to 
give the passengers an opportunity for refreshments, 
I was generally shut up in the vehicle by myself, 
which always rendered me very indignant, and I 
would rave and shout so loud as to draw a crowd 
around me. Then I would begin to complain of 
Stanley's wicked behavior, telling those around me 
that he was Satan himself, to find whom I had travel- 
led all over the world, and having caught him, was 
now taking him to shut him up in the infernal re- 
gions, where he properly belonged. One reason why 
my insane ideas ran so much on this point, was, be- 



100 UNCLE T O M ' 8 CABIN AND 

cause I had visited, a sliort time previous to my ill- 
ness, a representation, at one of tlie Western mu- 
seums, of the place of punishment, which we call Hell. 
I will give a concise description of it as it exists in 
my memory. 

'' The room in which it is exhibited is at first 
quite dark, and an unearthly sound, something like 
distant thunder, strikes upon the ear. In a few mo- 
ments the place becomes a little lighter, and the cur- 
tain rising, the spectator beholds a frightful sight. 
Near the front of the stage appears in 'bold relief,' 
Belzebub himself, the commander in chief of those 
doleful regions. 



While near him stands the great dog Cerberus, with 
three heads, who guards the gates of Hell. This in- 
fernal monster keeps up an awful howling, and 
springs forward occasionally, as if he intended to de- 
vour some of the spectators. On the other side of Sa- 
tan is an enormous black snake, who is continually 
coiling and uncoiling his long body in the attempt to 
reach some hapless mortal, his huge jaws wide open, 
and his forked tongue trembling therein. Some of 
the spectators who happen to stand near, start back 
Avith fearful apprehension. 

'' The room is represented with great rocks hang- 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 101 

ing over it, some of their points nearly touching the 
floor. At the farther end is a large fire whereon 
skeletons ewe roctsting. Chains are rattling — demons 
are howling — mournful cries are resounding through 
the dismal regions, and the lost spirits are heard call- 
ing to one another, inquiring the cause of each other 
being sent thither. Every one tells a tale of sin, 
while curses and revilings echo on all sides — and 
at the same time that uncecising^ doleful thundering 
sound is heard, 

' A universal hubbub wild 
' Of stunning sounds and voices all confused, 
' Borne through the hollow dark ;' 

while at the same time the olfactories are saluted 
with a strong sense of brimstone. 

" I never was so glad to escape from any place in 
my life as I was from this horrid spectacle, and a cold 
chill runs through my frame yet, when I think of it. 
I consider it highly improper for authorities of cities 
to permit such exhibitions in their precincts, as there 
are many nervous persons Avho may be affected by 
the sight for months and years afterwards. 

"To proceed: on arriving at Pulaski I jumped 
out of the staoje and bea:an i-unnina; about the streets 
and shouting as I had done at Columbia. I had not 
proceeded far when I was surrounded by half a do- 
zen men, who, thinking there was danger in leaving 



102 UNCLE TOm's cabin AND 

me at liberty, secured me, but not before I had knock- 
ed down a couple of them. They then bound me 
with cords and carried me off to jail. On the way 
I complained of being hurt by the tightness of my 
bonds, and my captors were lenient enough to stop 
and loosen them, I kept continually asking these 
men what I had done to be used thus harshly, but 
disregarding my inquiries, they hastened to put me 
in a room of the prison. At this juncture my true 
friend came to my aid, and after much expostulation 
I Avas allowed to be taken to a hotel, wdiere I was 
bled and put to bed. As Stanley w^as nearly worn 
out from attending me, another person was put into 
my room to take charge of me, but he proved a bad 
nurse and I suffered very much on account of his in- 
attention. My arm Avas bandaged so tightly that it 
threw me into a fever and I became very thirsty, but 
could not prevail on my attendant either to give me 
a drink or to loosen my bandage ; and thus I re- 
mained suffering until the doctor came the next 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 103 



CHAPTER IX. 



"The lunatic, the lover and the poet, 

"Are of imagination all compact." — Shakspeare. 



'' Many persons labor under a mistake in regard 
to the insane, they imagine that they liave no phy- 
sical suffering, whereas, their sensibilities are much 
more acute than those of the sane. OAving to the 
raging fever within me, I suffered more from thirst 
than from anything else during mj^ journe3^ yet could 
not make my attendants believe that I wanted to 
drink almost constantly. 

" In the morning Stanley hired a private carriage 
to take us to Huntsville, Alabama, as I was too trou- 
blesome to the stage passengers. After reaching this 
place, I was brought on to Whites ville, on the Ten- 
nessee River, and there put on board a steamboat 
bound for Chattanooga, Tennessee. On arriving at 
this town, they placed me in the cars for Charleston, 
where we arrived after nisht. I was taken bv the 



104 UNCLE TOm's cabin AND 

faithful Stanley to my father's house, in a carriage, 
and the family aroused from their slumbers. You 
may imagine the grief and consternation of my fa- 
ther and sister when they beheld the unfortunate Eu- 
gene brought home to them, a wreck both in body 
and mind. They were nearly distracted, and the 
slaves went about weeping for 'poor massa Eugene,' 
for I had been a general favorite among them, as 
they were always treated by me with kindness and 
humanity. 

''When my friend Stanley hinted to my father 
his suspicions in regard to the cause of my insanity, 
the old man's heart smote him, and he bitterly re- 
pented what he had done ; but repentance, as it often 
does, came too late, and he felt it deeplj^. 

"When it became known in Charleston that I 
had been brought home insane, it created a great deal 
of excitement among my acquaintances. Various 
were the conjectures as to the cause of my derange- 
ment; some thought it was brought on through the 
excitement of travelling ; and others that it was caus- 
ed by illness ; but few knew the true reason ; and 
these few became acquainted with it by being ad- 
mitted to ni}^ presence to assist in taking care of me, 
at which times they would hear me talking in my 
delirium of my dear Julia, thus : ' She is dressed in 
pure white like an angel, and has such a bright, sun- 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 105 

ny countenance that none can look at her without 
being dazzled, therefore you must all put on glasses 
if you would see her.' 

" At other times, when I wanted to escape, that I 
might go to Julia, I would exclaim, ' there is no use 
in trying to confine me — if I were to exert my 
strength I would be more powerful than even Sam- 
son. If this little world of yours was a ball of solid 
iron, and I was placed in the centre of it, I would 
burst it into ten thousand fragments to fly to my Ju- 
lia ; or if this ball of iron was wrought into a great 
chain, and I fettered with it, I would break it asunder 
as easily as Samson broke the cords that bound him 
when told that the Philistines were upon. Such is 
my strength ; but if Julia wished, she could bind me 
with a single hair of lier head ; for love is the secret of 
her power.' 

" The only way my attendants could force me to 
eat, or to take any kind of refreshment, was by bring- 
ing it to me in a lulnte vessel, and telling me it was 
prepared and sent by Julia ; white being my favorite 
color, because in m}^ imagination she Avas alwa3^s 
dressed in it. If they unthinkingly told me that it 
was not sent by her, I would dash it on the floor or 
in their faces. 

" Many of my dearest friends and relatives visited 

me during the time I remained at home, most of 

6* 



106 

whom were affected to tears when they beheld me in 
this deplorable condition. Great sympathy was ma- 
nifested towards me by my acquaintances, and prayer 
was offered for my restoration in some of the churches. 

" My true friend Stanley, (the good Samaritan,) 
Heaven's blessings be ever upon him ! was obliged to 
start immediately for New- York, as the steamer was 
to leave for England in a few days. On taking his 
departure, the day after my arrival at home, my fa- 
ther pressed upon him, and obliged him to take, 
against his inclination, a heavy purse of gold. Al- 
though constrained to accept it as well as several pre- 
sents from my friends, he contended that he had 
done nothing more than his duty in protecting and 
assisting a fellow being when in sickness and distress. 

"Several physicians were brought in to see me, 
and all agreed in advising my friends to take me to 
the Insane Asylum at Columbia, South Carolina, 
which, under their directions, was attended to. 

" I arrived at the Asylum in the night, very weak, 
and so much exhausted that it was with difficulty I 
could walk or even stand, as I had slept and ate very 
little since I was first attacked. Soon after my arri- 
val, Dr. Thomson, physician of the establishment, 
came to examine my case, and made several inquiries 
of my friends concerning me. After giving me some 
medicine, I was locked up in a room for the night. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 1 07 

"The next morning I was let out in the hall 
among the other patients, and immediately began to 
imagine myself in the mansion of Dr. Tennyson, at 
New-York. I thought the persons around me were 
his servants, and ordered them about as such. I de- 
manded of them why the doctor and Julia did not 
make their appearance, as I had sent up my card. 
En passant^ I would remark that I verily believe, had 
Julia really presented herself before me at this junc- 
ture, it would have been the means of my immediate 
restoration. However, the officers of the Institution 
encouraged these fancies, talking of the Doctor and 
enlarging upon the beauty and accomplishments of 
the lady, until I grew very much pleased with them, 
and became quite docile. 

"As I frequently heard music in some of the 
rooms, I concluded it was Julia's piano, and wonder- 
ed why wshe used me so cruelly ; not deigning to make 
her appearance. 

" Thus passed several days. At length I began 
to improve both in body and mind, and was taken 
out daily by an attendant to promenade in the beau- 
tiful garden attached to the Asylum. I was alwavs 
fond of flowers, alid while there their presence had a 
great influence upon me. It was early spring; and^ 
the first timid blossoms were opening to the sun.. 
While wandering around the alleys and flower beds, 



108 

of this favorite resort, a gentle yet sweet melancholy 
would pervade my whole being, and I would expe- 
rience a strange sort of happiness that seemed almost 
unearthly. 

"The greatest trouble my attendants had with me 
was to make me take my medicine, which was always 
excessively nauseous. If I could, I v/ould always 
dash the vessel containing it to the floor, breaking it 
in a thousand pieces. I shall never forget one time 
Avhen I threw the bowl containing some bitter ingre- 
dient into the face of one of the assistants. Imme- 
diately three strong rough men seized me, and 
throwing me on the floor, forced open my teeth, and 
poured the medicine down my throat so fast as near- 
ly to strangle me. This was the hardest treatment 
I received while there ; and I have always thought 
that the kind superintendent was not aware of this 
circumstance, as my brutal attendants would have 
been severely rebuked. 

" There is great room for improvement in regard 
to the character and qualifications of attendants in in- 
sane asylums, for in managing a maniac, talents of 
the same kind are required as in the moral training 
and education of children, or, as eviniced by the kind 
and sympathysing physician : but, instead of possess- 
ing these qualifications, those men are often rough, 
uneducated, unfeeling wretches, who are not fit to 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 109 

take care of a liorse, much less a human being whose 
mind is diseased, and who consequently requires the 
most gentle and considerate treatment. 

" But to return to my own case. After getting a 
good deal better, the Doctor told me where I was, 
and the reason of my being brought there. This was 
the first time I had been told that I was insane, 
which I think should have been made known to me 
long before, for such persons are generally the last to 
believe themselves deranged. 

'' iVfter being made aAvare of my infirmity, I took 
my medicine and baths without mucli trouble, al- 
though the latter were ]Drctty hard to bear, being 
nearly scalding, while at the same time very cold wa- 
ter was poured upon my head. 

" As I became more improved, I was sent out in 
a carriage with other patients, accompanied hj an 
attendant, to see the public buildings and grounds 
about Columbia, such as the State House, the Col- 
lege, the cotton factories on the Congarie Kiver, &c. 
I was soon taken to better apartments, where I had 
the liberty of occupying a handsome parlor, contain- 
ing a piano and other musical instruments, together 
with a number of books and papers- for the use of 
the patients. I also went to the public table, as 
heretofore my allowance had always been sent to me. 
I often attended concerts, and lectures on astronomy 



110 UNCLE TOm's cabin AND 

and other sciences, given by distinguislied professors, 
in that portion of the building set apart for that pur- 
pose. The concerts were attended by the improved 
of both sexes, and they seemed to enjoy them ex- 
tremely. I think these amusements were very bene- 
ficial to the patients. 

" About six weeks after I had been admitted to 
the Asylum, I was pronounced perfectly cured, and 
consequently discharged by the kind Dr. Thomson, 
who was admirably suited to his profession as super- 
intendant, by his urbanity, kindness of disposition, 
and benevolence of heart. 

" You may ask whether I suffered much pain, or 
what was the state of my feelings during my derange- 
ment : I can unhesitatingly repl}^, that with the ex- 
ception of the rough treatment I received from the 
ignorant and unfeeling attendants, the few weeks that 
my reason was dethroned, were to me the happiest of 
my existence, as I was in extacies most of the time, 
living in a world of my own creation, a world more 
bright and beautiful than Arcadian bowers or Elysian 
fields, having for bosom companions hrigld fancies 
and wild imagino.iionsy 



BUCKINGHAM II A I, L . Ill 



CHAPTER X. 



" Ring, joyoiis chortls, ring out again ! 

" A swifter still and a wilder strain ! 

" They ai'e here, the fair face and the careless heart, 

" And stars shall wane o'er the mirthful part." — Hemans. 



Being apprised by Dr. Thomson of his son's re- 
covery, Col. Buckingham immediately started for 
Columbia to bring him home. Their meeting was an 
affecting one, for the grief his father had felt for the 
unhappy derangement of Eugene was now turned to 
joy at having him again restored to the bosom ol 
his famil^^ 

They left Columbia in the morning, by railroad, 
and arrived that evening at Charleston. AYhen they 
reached Buckingham Hall, they found the slaves, 
young and old, assembled to welcome their "dear 
young massa " home. Eugene's heart was so fall 
that tears sprung into his eyes as he beheld their 
honest jovous faees turned towards him. He shook 



112 UNCLE TOm's cabin AND 

hands with them all around, while they shouted in 
unison " Grod bless young massa Eugene !" The 
young man was soon obliged to make his escape into 
the house, for his feelings overcamxe him. His heart 
too longed to meet his sister ; and as he entered the 
hall she sprang towards him and fell weeping upon 
his neck. For several moments neither spoke ; and 
at length Cora exclaimed, " Dear Eugene, how well 
you look ! Thank God ! you are home again. But, 
come in to the dining room, supper is waiting. Come 
dear father." And they followed her. That evening, 
to our hero, Avould have been the happiest of his life, 
had he then been blest with the presence of his fond- 
ly loved Julia ; but her name was not mentioned in 
their conversation ; and when all had retired to rest 
Eugene lay long awake thinking of her, and mental- 
ly praying that the great presentiment of his life 
might one day be accomplished. 

The next morning Col. Buckingham, in the ful- 
ness of his heart, ordered that there should be a holi- 
day given to the slaves, that they might have a 
general rejoicing on account of Eugene's happy re- 
covery and restoration to his paternal abode. 

" For," said he to his principal overseer, Jerry, in 
whom he placed great confidence, "Eugene is, in 
some respects, like the Prodigal Son mentioned in 
Scripture, * He was dead and is alive again, he was 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 113 

lost and is found.' So, 'bring hither the fatted calf 
and kill it, and let us eat and be merry.' " 

"Yes, sah !" cried Jerry, with a grin of delight, 
" all dat an' more sal be done dy — recily." 

So away went Jerry to communicate the news of 
a holiday and festival in honor of their beloved 
" massa Eugene's " return. 

Shortly, loud shouts of merriment echoed through 
the little hamlet of the slaves, and as the hours 
passed away all were dressed in their gayest and 
their best, dancing, singing and chattering in every 
part of the shady lawn. 

Col. Buckingham, with his son and daughter, 
came forth to see the amusements of the slaves ; and 
the better to view them, they ascended a staircase 
around a large sycamore tree, which staircase termi- 
nated in a platform large enough to contain a dozen 
persons. While they remained seated here, oversha- 
dowed by the large thick leaves above and around 
them, the colored folks below kept up their glee 
without cessation. 

There were several of the slaves who were tole- 
rable musicians, and these having formed a band, 
})layed occasionally in the summer evenings in the 
lawn before the hall, for the amusement of the fa- 
mily. These were now ranged apart from the rest, 
near a sparkling fountain between the s^'camore and 



114 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN AND 

the mansion, and even to the refined ears of the 
Colonel and his children, " discoursed most elegant 
music." The leader of the band was Jerry, who sat 
on top of a hogshead with his legs hanging over the 
side, doing great execution with his " fiddle and his 
bow." The others performed on banjoes, bones and 
other instruments, and were seated around their 
leader, some on the ground and some on rude 
benches brought from the cabins. 

The residue of the slaves were either lolling on 
the grass, or sitting beneath the trees, or leaning 
against the trunks of them, or dancing merrily on 
the soft, green turf; while others were partaking of 
the "fatted calf" and drinking something that they 
thought better than water. 

So the day passed in merriment and pleasure, 
and as the sun began to hide himself behind the 
clustering trees, the slaves gradually ceased their 
amusements and commenced clearing the "camp 
furniture " from the scene of action. Before dark 
all were again gathered into tlieir cabins, and the 
Colonel and his family having returned to the Hall, 
peace and quietness reigned over the scene. 

The next day Col. Buckingham, while convers- 
ing with his son, introduced the subject of his pas- 
sion for Julia. "Eugene," said he, "do you still 



BUCKINOHAM HALL. 115 

entertain for Miss Tennyson the regard you once 
had?" 

The young man seemed, startled, and his coun- 
tenance glowed as he replied, "I shall love her al- 
ways, sir." 

" My son," then resumed liis father, " I feel that I 
have been to blame in endeavoring to force your 
inclinations — I feel that I have been partly the 
cause of yoiu- misfortune, and I would fain atone 
for it. I will not refuse my consent any longer, if 
you wish to marry her." 

Eugene's delight sprang to his eyes and irra- 
diated his whole countenance. He took his fa- 
ther's hand and raised it to his lips. " Thanks, 
dear father. I have only to gain the consent of 
Dr. Tennyson." 

"What! has he withheld his consent?" exclaim- 
ed the Colonel, somewhat surprised. " I thought I 
was the only bar to your union." 

" No sir : Dr. Tennyson, unfortunately, is as much 
prejudiced against the South and its institutions, as 
3^ou have been against the North. To convince 
you of this I wdll show you his letters to me on 
the subject." 

There was a pause of a few minutes, when Eu- 
gene suddenly exclaimed, "Miserable, that I am! 
what avails your consent, my father? Think you 



116 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN AND 

Julia would wed a man who has been the inmate 
of a madhouse?^'' And the bright look faded from 
his countenance, and a shade of despair occupied 
its place. 

"Hush! my son; these are strong words. Calm 
yourself If Julia is a sensible woman and really 
loves you, your derangement will have no weight 
with her. She Avill consider that it was a dispensa- 
tion of Providence, and will feel that your suffer- 
ings have endeared j^ou to her all the more. Write 
to her ; for she knows all that has befallen you from 
her cousin, to whom Cora and myself have several 
times written ; write to her, nnd you will find my 
words to be correct.'' 

Eugene took his father's advice, and that very 
evening wrote a long letter to Miss Tennyson, de- 
tailing his unfortunate derangement, and conclud- 
ed thus : 

" If you think that this misfortune is a sufficient 
cause for breaking the engagement we entered into 
before I left 3"ou, you are at libertj^ to act your plea- 
sure in regard to it. Although my regard for you 
is deeper than words can express, I would not wish 
to make your future life unhappy with regrets at 
marrying a man who had been the inmate of a luna- 
tic asylum. Pardon me if I sjDcak too plainly- 

" But, if you have the same affection for me that 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 117 

you once liad, and your father does not oppose you, 
will you accept one who cannot be happy without 
you ? If I have been insane, it has been altogether 
on your account — and I entreat you to consider this 
before you decide." 

Julia was much affected when she read his let- 
ter, and immediately laid it before her fiither. He 
appeared at the time to take little notice of it ; but, 
as weeks flew by, and his daughter's lovely cheek 
grew paler and paler, like 

" The last rose of summer, left drooping alone," 

he could not avoid seeing that her health was ra- 
pidly declining, and at last he relented. Calling 
her to him one day he told her, as she stood before 
him trembling with apprehension of some stern 
mandate, that if she was so much attached to Eu- 
gene, as not to be happy without him, he would 
withdraw his former prohibition, and that the nup- 
tials should be solemnized whenever the lovers 
thought proper. 

Joyfully and gladly did Julia hasten to write to 
the man of her heart, assuring him of her father's 
consent, ajid telling him that she never harbored 
such a selfish idea as that of breaking her engage- 
ment on account of his unfortunate aberration of 
mind. 



118 UNCLE TOM^S CABIN AND 

At the same time Eugene received Julia's letter, 
his sister got one from Melville, in wliicli he entreat- 
ed of her, now that her brother was again with his 
family, that she would no longer delay the day of 
their union. After consulting with her father and 
Eugene, she replied to her lover, appointing a day in 
the month of April, which by this time was not far 
distant. She also requested of Arlington, at her 
brother's wish, to persuade the Doctor to accompany 
him South with his daughter, for nothing would de- 
light her more than to have Julia for her bridesmaid. 
Eugene, too, wrote again to his beloved, requesting 
the same favor, and beseeching her to name an early 
day for their nuptials. In a short time two answers 
were received, with the tidings that they would all 
soon be on their way South, Julia telling her lover 
that she would not appoint their marriage day until 
after Cora's wedding. With this he was obliged to 
remain content. 

Eugene now thought himself the happiest mortal 
upon earth. His long treasured wish, his great pre- 
sentiment was about to be realized. He was soon to 
be possessed of a beautiful, talented, and accomplish- 
ed woman, a model for her sex, and the sole empress 
of his affections, upon whose throne was placed the 
thoughts and aspirations of years. 

Cora too had lost some of her former indolence, 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 119 

and was vastly improved in consequence. She was 
engaged with her dress-makers and milliners, prepar- 
ing her trousseau for the bridal day. The Colonel him- 
self was happy in the happiness of his children, and 
now there seemed nothing wanting to constitute 
earthly felicity. 

Before proceeding any further on this subject, we 
have to inform the reader that Miss Susanna Jones, 
after the rebuff she had met with from Eugene, never 
visited the Hall, although her father and the elder 
Buckingham still remained friends. Cora called on 
her two or three times, at the request of her father, 
but there was only cold civility exchanged between 
them. Susanna still rode, raced and hunted with the 
young men who visited her father's mansion, but 
never could get any farther than a flirtation with any 
of them. She was destined to remain in a state of 
single blessedness, for her unladylike and disagree- 
able qualities rendering her unloved, unrespected, 
and unapproached. 

The contention between the Northern and South- 
ern families, like the strife between the Montagues 
and Capulets, was now at an end. Their misunder- 
standings were all brought to a close, without any of 
the melancholy events attending the loves of Romeo 
and Juliet; and the arrival of the expected guests 



120 UNCLE IOM's cabin AND 

was daily looked for bj.tlie anxious hearts in Buck- 
ingliam Hall. 

At last they came. The meeting of lovers is well 
understood — I need not describe it. Col. Bucking- 
ham received his visitors with the most gentlemanlj- 
politeness, and was as much pleased with the Doctor 
as he was charmed with his lovely daughter. 

That evening the young people strolled out 
through the garden and shady lawn, leaving the 
elderly gentlemen to discuss their wine, and smoke 
their segars on the veranda. 

The four remained together for a short time, but 
after a while, as the round moon rose from the tops 
of the forest trees, and silvered the dew-moistened 
landscape, Eugene passed Avith his mistress before a 
glancing fountain, while the others strolled slowly 
on. And then the young man, with his sweet Julia 
leaning upon his arm, lingered to breathe into her 
ear the heart- felt happiness of his being. 

" I could not have lived had you refused me, 
dearest: yet after my unfortunate derangement I 
feared " 

" Eugene ! Did you really believe for a moment 
that your illness would have any weight with me ? 
I look upon what you have undergone as I would 
upon any other disease. We are not to murmur at 
the dispensations of Providence, ISTo, Eugene ; I 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 121 

feel that I love you better now, for I know that you 
have sufTered for ??ie." 

As she spoke she raised her soft, bright eyes to 
his, with a look of the most trusting affection. He 
took her delicate hand and raised it to his lips. 

'' Bless you, my own ! Dear Julia, forgive me 
that I have doubted you." 

There was a silence of some moments, and then 
Eugene said softly, "Do you remember, Julia, that 
you promised when we met to name the day of our 
nuptials?" 

''Not till after Cora's wedding, I said," she re- 
plied. 

'' My sister will be married in a few days — why 
then delay ? Why should you keep me in suspense ? 
Let me have an epoch to hang my hopes upon. 

" Well, to gratify you," replied the lady slowly, 
'' I will name — let me see— yes, the fifth of May^ 
which is my birth day." 

Eugene now folded his arms around her and 
pressed his /r5^ kiss upon her unresisting lips. They 
then wandered on among the fragrant flowers, the 
scented shrubbery and the tall, shady trees, until 
they were summoned from their world of romance to 
the dull realities of the tea table, where Cora and 
Melville had arrived before them. 



122 UNCLK tom's cabin and 



CHAPTER XL 



" If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels 
had been churches and ^loor men's cottages, princes' palaces." — 

Shakspeare. 



After tea tlie young people gathered around the 
centre table, while the Colonel and Doctor Tennyson 
sat apart conversing on different subjects. The even- 
ing passed very agreeably to all, especially when the 
two elderly gentlemen joined in the youthful circle 
and enlivened it with their pleasant jokes. 

Col. Buckingham was charmed with the beau- 
ty and accomplishments of our heroine, and did 
not at all wonder that Eugene should have been so 
enslaved by her. He asked her to play and sing, 
which, as the others joined in the request, she imme- 
diately rose to do. Eugene sprang to escort her to 
the piano, when his father pushing him aside, said 
gaily, '^ Out of the way, sir ! Do you think /have no 
claim to this lady ? Do you want to monopolize her 



BUCKINGHAM 11 A L L . 123 

entirely ?" And gallantly offering his arm, lie bore 
off Julia in triumph. They all laughed, of course, 
and Julia, being seated at the piano, commenced 
playing. She was a fine performer, and so gratified 
her hearers that even the slaves assembled outside 
on the veranda to hear the music, for the negroes 
are always delighted with the sounds of harmony. 

Julia had sung two or three fashionable songs, 
when the Colonel begged her to sing something of 
her own composing, "For," said he, "I am aware 
that you are a poetess." 

A slight blush clouded her cheek, and hesitating 
a moment, she unaffectedly complied. 

SONG. 

I cannot pi'ize the heart that burns 

For efo'ry form of grace, 
I cannot love the eye that tui'ns, 

To cv^ry fair young face. 
The smile that to the lip cloth start, 

For all, is clear no more ; 
O, give me a devoted heart, 

That never loved before ! 

When this is found, then I can love 

With fervor, pure, intense ; 
A love that would unchanging prove. 

All truth — all innocence. 
Yet I'll repel young Cupid's dart, 

And banish him my door, 
Until I find a faithful heart 

That never loved before. 



124 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN AND 

Eugene stood by the side of his betrothed, and 
whispered softly, "You have found that 'faithful 
heart' at last, that heart 'that never loved before,' 
have you not dear Julia?" 

She smiled, blushed and whispered something in 
return which was not heard by the others. 

By request of the Colonel Julia played and sung 
several other original pieces, all of which gave the 
old gentleman infinite pleasure. 

But the slaves who were assembled on the veran- 
da, now and then taking the liberty of peering from 
behind the window curtains into the parlor, were 
scarcely more delighted with the music than they 
were impressed by the beauty and elegance of the 
Northern lady. 

Dr. Tennyson was seated on a lounge near one of 
the windows, and overheard with much amusement 
the remarks of the sable auditors. 

" Oh !" exclaimed Sam, the coachman, " dat ar 
song am beautiful, deelightful ! " 

" She sing like a nighturngale," said Judith, the 
cook, " me no wonder massa Eugene fall in lub wid 
her." 

" He neber could help it," rejoined Drusilla, the 
old housekeeper, " caze why, she'd sing right trough 
his heart. 'Pears like massa Buckingham tink so 
■now — look dah ! he sits so close to her an' he look at 



n U (' KING H A M HAIL. 125 

Lei' all de time. Vse 'feared dat lie fall in lub wid 
her his own seff." 

The Doctor now beckoned to Melville, who was 
sitting near the piano with Cora. As he came, the 
old gentleman pointed over his shoulder towards the 
window without speaking. Melville smiled and sat 
down beside him. 

After a pause Drusilla observed, " what dat mas- 
sa Eugene say about missy Julia long 'go? Some 
po'try — lem me tink. 

' De beauty ob her brow might put out de stars, 
• An' make de candles burn de brighter.' " 

"0 sho!" exclaimed Sam, ^^you talk po'try, haw I 
haw ! dat make me laugh." 

"Why you laugh? What fur, I say? You 
knows nottin' — you big ig'ramus." 

" Knows more dan you, far all dat." 

" You go long ! Tell me dis den — why ole mas- 
sa wanter perw^ent massa Eugene fur to hab dis han- 
sum missy Julia ? Why he do dat, an' be de cause 
ob his drefful c'lamity. Kin you 'lucidate dat ar' 
question ?" 

"You doesn't know it you sefP," replied Sam 
doggedly. 

" Doesn't I !" exclaimed Drusilla. " 'Pears like I 
doesn't. How you 'spects I kin live in dis yere 
house allers, an' not know de princ'pal 'vents of de 



126 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

fam'ly ? Lar sakes ! does you tink I's deaf an^ 
blind?" 

"Tell us den — we like to know." 

" Find out fur yourseff den. I shan't condersend 
fur to hexpose de secrets ob dis fam'ly to nobody." 

" Will you liush I" said Judith, "how kin we hear 
missy Julia play, an' you 's makin' sich a clatter ?" 

" Sho' nough!" rejoined Drusilla, "if nobody 
listens, she'll be ' wastin' her sweetness on de dar- 
key's ear.' " 

On this, the two gentlemen haughed outright, 
which caused the slaves to make their exit to the 
lower regions in double quick time. 

This little by play being related by the Doctor to 
the others, caused a considerable degree of merri- 
ment. 



In the morning, after breakfast, the Colonel offer- 
ed to show his guest over the mansion and planta- 
tion, wliich offer being much relished by the Doctor, 
they proceeded first to tlie observatory, where the 
latter was mucli pleased with a fine view of the sur- 
rounding country and the bay of Charleston. After 
glancing at the Colonel's librarv, which, as I said 
before, was fitted up in this place, the Doctor and 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 127 

liis friend descended to some of the other apart- 
ments, which were used as bed-chambers. They 
were elegantly finished, and furnished with every 
comfort and luxury, and appeared to be kept in the 
most perfect order. They then proceeded to the 
jxirlors, and withdrawing-iooms on the first fioor. 
These bore the same evidence of taste and ele- 
gance — turkey carpets covered the floors, rich damask 
curtains shaded the windows, and beautiful velvet 
covered chairs, sofas and ottomans were tastefully 
arranged through the rooms. The doors were ma- 
hogan}^, with silver hinges and handles, and marble 
mantles, supported by graceful statues, were sur- 
mounted by the rarest of Italian vases and other or- 
naments -of agate and alabaster. One room, espe- 
cially, the great parlor, as it was called, was orna- 
mented by richly carved and gilded window frames, 
walls and ceilings painted in fresco ; and the furni- 
ture w\as in keeping with the rest. 

The porticos or verandas were spacious and 
airy, well calculated for promenading or lounging 
in pleasent weather. 

Lastly, the gentlemen descended into the base- 
ment, where, without elegance there was neatness 
and comfort. Everything bore a pleasing and cheer- 
ful aspect, even the countenances of the slaves, who 
were busily employed in divers ways, seemed to in- 



1 28 U X r I. E TOMS C A B T N AND 

dicate perfect contentment. Tliese last, at the en- 
trance of their master and his guest boAved and coiirte- 
sied respectfully ; and two or three little woolly 
heads creeping up to the Colonel, caught hold of 
the skirt of his coat, singing out, "Me berry good 
bo}^, massa; gim me penny." 

" You see," said Buchingham, throwing some cop- 
pers among them, " how I spoil these creatures." 

" Aye," replied the other, *' but all masters are 
not like you." 

" Granted," said the Colonel, as they stepped 
from the back door into the garden, and proceeded 
slowly down a gravel walk towards Cora's favorite 
retreat, the arbor before mentioned, " granted, but 
I foresee that you will one day admit, in spite of pre- 
judices, that there really are no such barbarians a- 
mong us as you have always believed there were." 

" Perhaps I ma}^, but I do not feel inclined to do 
so just at present." 

After remaining a short time in the arbor, they 
took their way from the garden into the lawn, visit- 
ed a sparkling fountain, where gold and silver fish 
abounded, and then mounted a spiral staircase, a- 
round a large sycamore tree, which terminated in a 
platform eight or ten feet square. This was one of 
the original ideas of the Colonel, and the Doctor 
thought it a very novel one. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 129 

They proceeded, onward, conversing tlie while, 
until they reached the principal gate at the main en- 
trance, where stood the porter's lodges, a couple of 
small handsome buildings occupied by one of the 
Colonels overseers and his family. Here they paus- 
ed awhile, and then went, by a circuitous path, to 
the rear of the lawn, beyond the flower garden, 
where stood the cabins of the slaves. As these were 
pretty much the same as most of the slave-cabins in 
the South, I need not pause to describe them. There 
were only a few old women and some small children 
about them, as the rest Avere at work in the fields, 
whither the gentlemen now proceeded. 

As they strolled about, looking at the slaves, 
who were diligently at work, the Colonel pointed 
out one in particular, who although he took part in 
the labor seemed to act as an overseer. He was a 
strong, large man, and apparently the most active 
among them. 

"That," said Buckingham is one of my best 
men ; but when I bought him of my neighbor 
Harding, whose house you can see through those 
beech trees yonder, he was the most lazy worthless 
fellow you can conceive of His master was always 
a cruel man — and notwithstanding poor Jerry was 
severely whipped almost every day, he did not al- 
ter in the least. 

G* 



130 



" Knowing of his ill treatment, and believing 
tliat he could be reclaimed by gentle management, 
I offered to buy him, out of pity. Harding rea- 
dilj^ agreed to it and I brought him home. Jer- 
ry behaved just the same for a while, but I said 
nothing. 

" One day in very hot weather I went out in the 
field and found him asleep, lying with his face to 
the sun. I took out my handkerchief and laid it 
over his ebony features. When he awoke and found 
what I had done. I was told that he was very much 
ashamed and mortified, saying, ' Massa was too good 
to such a wicked nigger.' From this there was a 
decided improvement in him — and he would work 
with diligence for a few days, until his old habits 
of laziness would come on, when he would feign 
sickness. I would then bathe his head with my 
own hands, and order two other slaves to sit and 
fan him. He became so much ashamed at last, 
knowing that he was so unworthy of such kind 
treatment, that he suddenly left off all- his old tricks, 
and became one of my trustiest and best workmen. 
So much for the effects of gentle usage." 

While this incident was being related the gentle- 
men had retraced their steps to the mansion. Tlie 
young people were sitting in the veranda engaged in 
lively conversation ; and joining them, Buckingham 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 131 

and his guest assisted to pass away the time until 
dinner. 

Towards evening, Eugene and Melville proposed 
a ride on horseback to the ladies, which was glee- 
fully accepted by them, on condition that the old 
gentlemen should accompany them. This was not 
declined, so they started, a gay cavalcade. 

On their way they passed the mansion and 
grounds of Harding. "There," said Buckingham to 
his friend, "is the residence of Jerry's former master. 
He is a hard, cruel man, but strange to say, he is a 
IN'ortherner, from the state of Ohio, and once was a 
ntrong abolitionist." 

" A planter from the ISTorth !" ejaculated the Doc- 
tor, "how can that be?" 

"The fact is," replied the Colonel, "'the planta- 
tion was left to him by a relative of his wife, who is 
from the same state with her husband ; but failing to 
dispose of it to advantage, as he had desired to do, 
he at last concluded to come and live on it himself in 
spite of his prejudices. He has been here nine years, 
and appears to enjoj- his capacity of tyrant, for he 
abuses his slaves worse than any Southerner I ever 
heard of Certainly he was not cruel at first, but be- 
ing naturally despotic, he loved to exercise power- 
where he found it easy to do so, and therefore it grew 
on him bv decrees till he became what he now is. 



132 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

" For some time liis brotlier, wlio still resides in 
Ohio, corresponded with and visited him occa- 
sionally; but becoming disgusted with him as a 
slave-holder, broke off all communication with Har- 
ding and his family, the Northern brother being an 
abolitionist. 

" This man works his slaves harder than any 
other planter in the neighborhood, and expects them 
to do as much in a day as white men; and because 
they do not he beats and half starves them. His 
wife, too, is as barbarous as her husband ; she is much 
younger than he, and very gay, goes out a great deal, 
and often rides on horseback. She owns a beautiful 
black horse, and is so particular about his keeping, 
that when he is brought out for her to ride, she al- 
ways takes a white hankerchief and rubs it over the 
horse, and if it is the least soiled or dusty, she imme- 
diately orders her groom to be whipped. 

" Thus, you see that the Northerners make the 
hardest masters and mistresses. And that is the 
reason I have never employed a Northerner as an 
overseer." 

*'Well, but this case is one in a thousand," re- 
joined Tennyson, "Northerners never come South to 
become planters ; and this man is, according to your 
own statement, naturally tyrannical." 

^'I admit that: but I want to show von how mis- 



BUCKINGHAM HALF,. 1 33 

taken you are in believing that we Sontlierners are 
the only tyrannical masters in the Union.*' 

" From what I have seen so far," replied the Doc- 
tor, " I find that good masters do exist here. But all 
are not so." 

" I do not pretend to say they are. I could point 
out to yon many who are hard and cruel ; but as a 
general thing, the slaves have reason to be, and are, 
contented with their condition. But you must see 
something more of our institutions before I ask you 
to alter your opinion of us." 

As they rode on they came in sight of a fine 
mansion belonging to a gentleman of the name of 
Hamilton^ and the Colonel observed, " There sir re- 
sides a man who represents a large share of our 
Southerners in his openheartedness and hospitalit}-." 

" I have always understood that the Southerners 
were noted for these qualities," said Tennyson. 

" They are so, and justly," replied Buckingham. 
" This gentleman is hardly ever without guests, and 
thinks nothing of inviting perfect strangers, and en- 
tertaining them for weeks at his house, placing horses 
and carriages at their disposal. Thus you see there 
is much truth in the adage that ' warni climates pro- 
duce warm hearts.' " 

In the course of their conversation these gentle- 
men had lingered behind their companions, but now, 



134 



UNCLE TOM S OABIK AND 



as they were called bj the young ladies, they hasten- 
ed to join them, and the equestrians rode on until 
the shades of evening darkened the landscape, when 
they returned to Buckingham Hall. 




BUCKINGHAM TIALL. 135 



CHAPTER XIL 



' To a far land he came, yet round him clung 
The spirit of his own." 



The next morning Col. Buckingliam ordered the 
carriage to convey liimself and Dr. Tennyson to 
Charleston, to witness a slave auction that was ad- 
vertised for that day. They arrived thither a few mi- 
nutes before ten o'clock, which was the hour speci- 
fied for the sale, and found many persons sauntering 
about and making observations on the slaves who 
were assembled in the slave-market, at the Exchange. 
This lot had been brought from Virginia. 

The hour arrived, and the auctioneer mounting 
the platform prepared to commence business. The 
first called to the stand was a boy about nineteen, 
named Jim. After enumerating his good qualities, 
the man of the hammer commenced crying him off. 
The bidding was spirited, as he was a stout, likely 
boy, and he was soon knocked down to a planter 
from Georo-ia for a field hand, at So50. 



13G UNCLE tom's cabin and 

The next offered was a large muscular middle 
aged man, who was immediately bid off at $935, for 
a sugar plantation in Louisiana ; and his sister Han- 
nah, a good looking girl, then mounted the stand 
with a gay air, laughing and talking with the by- 
standers. She was gaudily dressed, and wore, co- 
quettishly, a scarlet turban on her head. She appear- 
ed to relish being sold, as she had a hard master, and 
expected to be bought by a good one in Charleston. 
When asked what she could do, she replied that she 
could " Wash and iron a shirt fit for de President ; 
an' as for doin' up chicken fixin's an' oder kinds 
ob cookin' an' 'fectionaries, she defied any gal in de 
Carolinas to beat her." A gentleman of Charleston 
bought her for $625. 

An elderly woman named Maria was then called 
up. She came forward slowlj^, and was very criti- 
cally examined by the spectators. Some asked her 
if she was sickl}^, and she replied in the affirmative, 
when the auctioneer interfered, saying that it was all 

" D d nonsense, she was well enough, and only 

wanted to get clear of being sold for a field hand ; 
but that she was good at housework also." And 
then he continued, "If she gets lazy give a touch or 
two with the whip, and I'll engage she'll do your 
work." He then began some indecent jokes concern- 
ing her appearance, observing that whoever bought 



B U C K I X G H A M HALL. ] .']7 

lier, would have an increase of stock before long. 

Col. Buckingham, out of pity for her forlorn con- 
dition, made a bid for her, and she was knocked 
down to him for §3(35. 

Dr. Tennyson now intimated that he was weary 
of this scene, so they left and went to the Jail to see 
a lot of rice field negroes, placed there for sale. These 
presented a motley appearance, from the sucking 
child to the gray haired sire. Most of them were 
assembled in the jail-yard engaged in different ways. 
Some of the women were cooking meat and other 
things, in little j^ots hung over a fire built on the 
ground, which as soon as cooked were handed out by 
the females to the crowd around them, who took 
them as they wxre given, with their fingers, and ate 
Avith apparent satisfaction. 

The Doctor thousfht it strano^e their victuals were 
not cooked and distributed by the keepers, but one 
of them said that they, the slaves, preferred cooking 
for themselves. 

In another part of the yard, in a building for the 
purpose, was placed a tread-mill whereon several ne- 
groes were engaged grinding out corn for their own 
consumption. Most of them looked cheerful and con- 
tented, but a few seemed sad and dejected enough, 
as they trod their weary round. 

At length the Doctor wished to return, and the 



138 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

carriage being in waiting, the gentlemen entered it, 
and arrived at the Hall just at dinner time. 



Three or four days passed quickly away. In the 
mean time the preparations for Cora's wedding were 
almost completed, and it only wanted a couple 
of days to the appointed time. The young people 
were enjoying themselves extremelv, rambling about 
the countrj^ and riding and visiting to and from 
Charleston. 

One day there were several ladies and gentlemen 
from that city spending tlie day at Buckingham Hall, 
among whom was a gentleman from New Orleans, 
who had just come to Charleston from Boston where 
he had been for some time. He was a jovial, com- 
municative person, and an acute observer of " hu- 
man events." Buckingham had always held him in 
high esteem. 

These gentlemen, with Dr. Tennyson and some 
others, sat sipping their wine after dinner, the ladies 
having retired to the parlor. 

The conversation had been turned by a remark 
of the Doctors, upon hi? fivorite topic, the slavery 
question. 

'' By-the-by," cried Bradford, the gentleman just 



B U C K I N G HAM 11 A L I, . 1 m9 

introduced, " Lave you read the new work by Mrs. 
Stowe, Uncle Tom's Cabin ?" 

Dr. Tennyson replied in the affirmative^ and so 
also did the Colonel. 

" Well Doctor, what do you think of it ?" asked 
Bradford, turning towards him as he laid down his 
glass. 

"I think," replied Tenn3'son, slowl}^, "that Mrs. 
Stowe evinces great knowledge of human nature. 
Her book is an excellent one ; it shows up the cruel- 
ty and hard-heartedness of slave-holders in a style 
worth}^ of imitation. There is an apparent truthful- 
ness in her whole book that makes it doubly in- 
teresting." 

" I can't agree with 3-ou at all !" "broke in Col. 
Buckingham, " she is a talented woman, I confess, 
and writes well, but some of her stories are too high- 
ly colored and much exaggerated. For instance, the 
escape of Eliza, the quadroon, would have been very 
well if we could believe that she leaped ten feet across 
the current in the Ohio river, and scampered over 
the broken ice like a cat, and all the while with a 
child in her arms." 

" Such a thing migld have been possible,'' said 
Doctor Tennyson. " It seems to me that I have 
heard of such a circumstance before." 

" But, I must say," he continued, " that there is 



140 

one tiling I don't exactly admire ; — little Eva is a 
sweet, angelic creature, yet she is made by the au- 
thoress, the companion of a slave, sitting in his lap 
and embracing him, as if he were a brother. Colonel, 
did you ever permit your daughter such intimacy 
with your negroes ?" 

Melville started and looked much concerned at 
the idea, fixing an uneasy gaze upon Buckingham's 
face, as he replied, " I certainly did not^ Doctor, nor 
do I approve of intimacy such as that." 

Arlington drew a sigh of relief, and the Colonel 
added, " Kindness without familiarity is sufficient to 
gain the love of these creatures. Mrs. Stowe has ex- 
aggerated this somewhat." 

" Well," suggested Bradford, " the story of Legree 
is somewhat unnatural. A writer that wishes to 
convince must not color too highly, or the object 
aimed at will be overshot." 

" You are right, sir," said Buckingham. We 
Planters well know that no such monsters exist as 
that Legree. To be sure some of them are cruel in 
beating their slaves " 

" My good Colonel," interrupted Dr. Tennyson, 
*'You contradict yourself. Was you not telling me 
the other day of a barbarous Planter near by, a ter- 
rible tj^rant, one of whose slaves you bought and 
reclaimed?" 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 141 

" Mj dear Doctor, have you forgotten this man 
you speak of was a Northern abolitionist^ and none of 
our Southern men ?" 

The old gentleman seemed rather taken down, 
and remamed silent. Buckingham continued, " As I 
said, although some of our Planters are hard masters, 
they do not beat their slaves to death, or hum them 
alivCj or murder them, as Legree is represented to 
have done.-' 

*' Such a man could not have lived in our State," 
said Bradford, " he Avould have been lynched in no 
time." 

'' I know of no instance where a Planter lives 
entirely isolated from his neighbors," rejoined the 
Colonel ; I don't see how such a thing is possible, 
where people are coming and going continually." 

" But this man lived in Louisiana," observed Ten- 
nyson, "in a part where the country is not very 
thickly settled." 

" I have been in all parts of Louisiana," said 
Bradford, " and such barbarians as Legree have I 
never seen ; neither do I believe that they exist." 

" Gentlemen," said Buckingham, allow your glass- 
es to be filled. Doctor, if you please, answer me one 
question — are you as much prejudiced against our 
institutions now as you were before you came here ?" 

Tennyson hesitated ere he replied, " I allow that 



142 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN AND 

my opinions are somewhat changed. From what I 
have observed personally, I find they are better than 
I ever supposed them to be ; but sir, do not mistake 
me," added the Doctor, as he observed a smile of 
triumph on the countenance of his host, "I am not 
in favor of slavery — I shall always believe that the 
system is wrong in principle, and Avill ever remain 
opposed to it. But that will not interfere with our 
personal friendship — Ave have each a right to our 
different opinions." 

"So be it, then," replied Buckingham. "And 
now my friend," turning to Bradford, "how did you 
like your Northern tour ?" 

" Extremely," replied that gentleman, " but of 
that another time. I wish to relate a little incident 
to Dr. Tennyson, of a Yankee abolitionist, which 
came to my knowledge a short time since : that is, if 
he has no objection to hear it." 

" 0, not at all," replied the Doctor, " proceed." 

" Mr. Doubleface Avas a strong abolitionist Avlien 
at home in the land of steady habits ; or, to be more 
particular, the good city of Boston, Avhere he carried 
on an extensive mercantile business. I say he Avas 
an abolitionist at home, but chameleon like, he 
could change his colors at pleasure. It so happened, 
in the course of his mercantile operations, that Mr. 
Doubleface found it necessary to visit the South, and 



BUCKING II AM HALL. 143 

particularly ISTcav Orleans ; and when he had pro- 
ceeded as far as Eichmond he came to the conclusion 
that, as the Scripture says, 'it is not good for man to 
be alone ;' thougli at the same time he had adopted 
that maxim years before, for he left a wife and five 
children in Boston. Eecollecting this circumstance, 
he merely altered the text a little by saying, ' it Avas 
not good for man to travel alone,' as he needed some 
one to take care of his linen, &c. and be a companion 
to him in his lonely hours; therefore, being at a 
slave sale in Richmond, he concluded to purchase a 
beautiful quadroon who charmed him greatly by her 
liveliness, intelligence and wit. The bargain was 
made ; but as he respected appearances, and did not 
wish so delicate an affair to be known, he provided 
the lady with elegant dresses and jewelry, and called 
her his wife. Things went on very well for a while, 
as they proceeded to New Orleans ; he, however, 
contriving to keep the pretty Lucinda as much as 
possible from the sight of his Southern acquaintances, 
lest they should discover the secret. Arriving at the 
Crescent cit}", he put up at the St. Charles' Hotel, 
and S. S. Doubleface and lady of Boston, was entered 
on the register. 

"While in New Orleans, this man wrote to his 
wife in Boston, telling her, among other interesting 
news, that he had done a great deal of good among 



144 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN AND 

the slaves; that he had ameliorated the condition 
of many, and was daily instilling moral inecepts into 
the minds of all with whom he had communication. 
He said his pity was excited by the bad usage some 
of them received, and only wished he had the power 
to prevent the buying and selling of human flesh 
and blood. 

" At the time of writing thus, he was represent- 
ing to his friends in the South, and particularly those 
with whom he was transacting business, that he 
was rather in favor of slavery, and intimated that 
he might at some future time become a planter him- 
self. 

" But a gentleman of his acquaintance, having 
just arrived in New Orleans from the 'Athens of 
America,' put up at the same hotel, and was much 
surprised to see '■ S. S. Doubleface and lady ' on the 
register, when he knew he had seen Mrs. Double- 
face in Boston the day before he left, and she had 
told him that her husband was then in New Orleans, 
having just received a letter from him. 

"This gentleman was not long in discovering 
how matters stood ; and disgusted with the vile hy- 
pocrisy of Doubleface, threatened to expose him ; 
whereupon the latter suddenly left the *city for the 
North, taking the slave with him. 

" They went up the Mississippi and Ohio, as far 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 145 

as Louisville Kentucky, where, after growing tired 
of, and abusing his mistress worse than he would a 
dog, he sold her in that city for half the sum he had 
given for her. This being the last slave state on 
his way North, he could not have kept her longer^ 
had he wished." 

"I see," said Dr. Tennyson, laughing, "you are 
all bent upon making a convert of me with your 
arguments and stories. One thing however I will 
admit : I shall not go home as strong an abolition- 
ist as I came hither." 

Well pleased at this concession, the Colonel 
arose from the table, saying, "I am glad to hear 
you say that, my friend." 

" And furthermore, I would say that I have car- 
ried m}^ prejudices too far in opposing the union 
of our children," resumed Tennyson, "and have thus 
been partly the cause of their unhappiness. Colo- 
nel, will you not make a like confession ?" 

" I will — I do, with all my heart," replied Buck- 
ingham. 

"And now, let us join the ladies, — for I per- 
ceive some of our young gentlemen have made their 
escape while we have been talking." 

They all accordingly repaired to the parlor. 



146 UNCLE TOMS CABIN AND 



CHAPTER XIII. 



Bring flowers, bring flowers, for the bride to wear, 
They were born to bhish in her shining huii-." 

They are gone — they are fled — they are parted all ; 
'' Alas ! the forsaken Hall !" 



The morning that was to witness the bridal of 
Cora and Melville dawned clear and lovely upon 
them. All preparations had been completed for 
their departure the next day with Dr. Tennyson and 
his daughter for New-York, where the nuptials of 
the latter were to be solemnized. 

At ten o'clock, A. M. a numerous assemblage of 
the elite of Charleston, together with many of the Co- 
lonel's friends from neighboring States, were await- 
ing the advent of the bridal train in the great par- 
lor of Buckingham Hall. 

At last they entered — the bride looking as inte- 
resting as brides always do, arrnved in a splendid 
wrhite satin, embroidered with silver, and sparkling 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 147 

with, diamonds — a veil of rich lace falling gracefully 
from her head, flistened by a wreath of orange flowers. 

Julia, as bridesmaid, was more simply dressed, in 
white embroidered silk, pearl bracelets on her arms, 
and a necklace of the same clasped around her grace- 
ful neck. Her Iiair fell in natural ringlets around 
her head, which was encircled by a wreath of Avhite 
rosebuds. 

The eyes of all present expressed their undis- 
guised admiration of the beautiful bridesmaid, and 
man}^ a manlj^ bosom throbbed AA'ith envy against 
Eugene, who alone would possess the brilliant prize. 

The reverend gentleman approached, and in a 
few minutes the ceremony was concluded. The bride 
and groom then received the congratulations of the 
com];)any, after which all repaired to the dining-room, 
where an elegant entertainment graced the " festive 
board." 



In the afternoon, through the kindness and in- 
dnh^^piK'e of Col. Bnckin^irhan-!, the slaves of the plan- 
tation were allo\v(,'d a festival in honor of the wed- 
ding. Several gentlemen in the neighborhood, as 
well as the guests then at the Hall, permitted their 
Slaves to join in the rcjoiciriii-s. 



148 UNCLE tom's cabin and 

In the lawn, near the fountain before mentioned, 
was a Jong table well spread with substantial eata- 
bles and drinkables, whereat were seated a large 
number of men, women and children, all enjoying 
themselves to the utmost. 

The wedding guests who yet remained at the 
Hall, together with the bridal party, descended into 
tlie lawn to witness the rej(.)icings. When they 
reached the fountain the slaves all rose and saluted 
the bride and groom in their rude fashion, with 
cheers and acclamations that were almost deafening. 

"Holla!" shouted Buckingham, "that will do. 
Don't frighten the ladies with your roaring." 

They were immediately silent; and as the com- 
pany walked away to another part of the lawn, the 
negroes commenced tuning up theii- iiddles and ban- 
joes, while the women cleared away the remnants of 
the feast, preparator}^ to the dance on the green 
sward. 

Tn half an hour's time a couple of hundred men 
and women, dressed in their best attire, were caper- 
ing and dancing to the music of the fiddles and ban- 
joes beneath the tall trees of the park, while others 
were lying about the grass in different places, sing- 
ing with good musical voices all sorts of lively 
tunes; some improvising as they went along verses 
in honor of the bride and groom. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 149 

The ladies and gentlemen walked among them 
much amused at their drollery, both in dancing aiii'i 
singing. Dr. Tennyson, and Julia in particular, 
who were not accustomed to such scenes, laughed 
heartily at their strange capers and queer songs. 

Backingham's principal man, Jerry, who was be- 
fore mentioned, sat surrounded by a circle of bo} ^^ 
and girls, who took up the chorus of his impromptu 
singing, some of which ran thus : 

O ! missy Cora, she go way, 

Slic got inMiried (lis eiv dny ; 

Wlit'ii she come back wn nel)l»<r know, 

Mighty sorry dat she gn. 

Chorus: O, missy Cora, she go way. 

Massa Eugene he go ton, 
Wid de gal he hib so true: 
But he soon come back again, 
Bring new missy wid him den. 

Chorus : O, massa Eugene, he go too. 

Massa Melville nice young coon, 
Gib ole nigger picayune ; 
Mighty sorry he can't stay, 
Case he take young missy 'way. 

Chorus : O, massa Melville nice young cooti. 

Good ole Doctor from de Nort', 
Treats a nigger as he ort ; 
Wants to make de darkies free, 
C;)se he tiiiks dey orter be. 

Chorus: O, good ole Doctor from de Nort'. 



150 UNCLE TOM's cabin AND 

Darkies dey dou'L wan' l)e tree, 
Case dcy happy us dey be: 
Massa gibs 'em plenty meat — 
Berry apt to fo'git de treat. 

Chorus : O, darkies dey don't wan' be free. 

This song was laughed at and applauded by the 
auditors; and at length, the shadows beginning to 
lengthen, the wedding guests returned to the man- 
sion, and shortly after departed for their homes. 

Blythe and happy, the slaves retired to their 
quarters, chattering together about their pleasant 
holiday ; and so closed around them the hours of the 
evening. 



Early the next morning the bridal party were 
prepared to start. They were to remain in New- 
York until after Julia's marriage, and then start for a 
six months' tour in Europe, during which time they 
were to visit the friends of Melville in England. Col. 
Buckingham would accompany them as far as Kew- 
York to witness his son's nuptials, and then return 
home. In the meantime the plantation would be 
left in care of his trusty overseer, and the Hall under 
the surveillance of the old housekeeper Drusilla, who 
for years had had the sole control and management 
of the domestic concerns. 



BUCKINGHAM HALL. 151 

As they were about to depart the slaves crowded 
around them expressing much sorrow and regret. 
Eosa, in particular, the favorite young slave of Cuia, 
wept incessantly when she found she could not ac- 
company her mistress, although told that she would 
undoubtedly be abducted by the abolitionists if t^he 
took her to the North, as others had been when 
taken thither by Southerners. So, although Cora 
would have liked her attendance, poor little Ivosa 
was obliged to remain in expectation of her mistress' 
return. 

Bidding adieu to the Hall, the little party were 
driven to Charleston, and embarking on board a 
steamer, were soon launched on their watery way. 
They had a short and agreeable passage. When 
they arrived at the great metropolis, they proceeded 
at once to Dr. Tennyson's mansion. 



The fifth of May at length arrived — and two hap- 
py hearts at least, welcomed the eventful da}^ At 
nine o'clock, A. M. the wedding guests were assem- 
bled in Dr. Tennyson's handsome parlors, awaiting 
the entrance of the bridal party. It was not long 
before they mnde their appearanoe— nnd novcr did 
Julia look so beautiful. She was attired in white 



152 UNCLE Tom's cabin, etc. 

crape covered with lace trimming, plain yet elegant. 
A gauze veil floated from her head, and a single 
rosebud decorated her hair. She looked lovely with- 
out any ornaments — and as the manly bridegroom 
gazed on her as she stood by his side, he looked as if 
he thought 

" A seraph not more bright." 

Her bridesmaid, a young and pretty girl ; and a 
friend of Eugene's, ^vho stood as groomsman, were 
the only attendants. They were married by an 
Episcopal Clergyman; and after the ceremony tlie 
dining room was thrown open, where a splendid 
and recherche collation awaited the invited gaests. 

A couple of hours after, the newly married 
couples proceeded to the wharf, accompanied by 
their relatives and friends, who desired to see them 
start, and embarked in one of Collins' Steamers for 
Europo. And here we take our leave of them, and 
also of the reader. 



FINIS 



